Do You Love Me
by dragonpearlz
Summary: The Ministry has declared that any werewolf not married must die. When Hermione steps in to save Remus, they fall in love and help their friends.Sick Fic. Not Canon. pseudo-sequel to Call Me Remus. Sneezefic:RL,SS,HG. nt:The Village
1. The Offer

A sneeze ripped from Remus and he coughed harshly as he tended to his raw nose. His nose tickled furiously and his wished he could just sneeze and get it over with.

He sniffed wetly and felt tears prickle his eyes. Quickly, he brought his handkerchief back to his face. "heh-achuffa! Huh-chuffa! Awauff!" He sniffed and blew his nose again. He felt his head throb, but continued to relieve his nose until his ears popped.

Folding his arms on the table, he rested his head on top of them. The Werewolf Registry was never a pleasant place to visit. Nor did they make it easy for werewolves to get by – restricting employment, limiting healthcare, banning the brewing of beneficial potions, etc. But, their newest play – it was the worst. And, Remus was terrified that he would suffer the same end as so many of his brethren.

He heard the door open and shut. Assuming it was Arthur or one of the other remaining few of the Order, he didn't move. They were even more used to him being pathetic than he was. He closed his eyes and waited for the smothering.

It was times like this he missed Molly. He remembered him making a fuss to get her to stop making a fuss when she was alive. She always used to say that when she was gone people would miss her smothering. They knew she was right then – but after her death, they felt it. Every time they were ill or sad, they felt her absence even more than usual.

Hermione walked into the house. She tried to be as quiet as possible, incase Remus was sleeping. She knew that he had been to the Registry earlier that day – though he had not seen her. Her job at Muggle Arts and Artifacts generally kept her well out of the way of the 'undesirable' places within the Ministry. But, when she heard that they had changed the laws – again, she went there to see if there was any back-door bureaucratic way of stopping it. Of course there was none. But, while she was there, she had seen him – looking more well kept than most of his brethren, but not much healthier. His nose was pinked and his cheeks held a familiar flush to them.

When she walked into the kitchen and saw him, her heart nearly melted. He was sitting at the table, right were Sirius always sat. He had his head cradled in his arms, and he seemed to be sleeping.

Slowly, she moved to his side, brushing her hand along the back of his neck. He was not warm, which meant that his pinked nose was due to some sort of allergy, and the flush must have been embarrassment.

She looked at him, asleep at the table. His mouth hung open slightly, making it painfully obvious that he was unable to breath through his nose. Her heart strings tugged at her, and she knew he would be more comfortable up in his room.

"Remus?" she asked, shaking his shoulder lightly.

He looked at her, blearily. "Good day, Hermione. Do forgive me, I must have fallen asleep." He sat up, and then remembered the reason he had sat down to begin with. Carefully, he moved the papers from the Ministry under his arms.

"There is nothing to forgive," she said dismissively sitting down next to him. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at the paper, although she knew very well what it was. The Ministry had decided that any werewolves without living relatives, or a spouse, were no longer of any use to society. They had two weeks to prove their relations, otherwise they would be sent either to Azkaban or to a werewolf laboratory, in order to "assist in the determination of a substantial or otherwise effective cure for lycanthropy". Many of these laboratories were known as death sentences. As far as she knew, Remus had no living relatives. And, since he and Tonks decided they were best as 'just friends', he didn't have many spousal prospects.

He sighed and looked at the papers before him. "The Ministry has decided that werewolves without family aren't worth the air we breathe."

"They're wrong," she said, gently.

"Doesn't matter. They make the rules. And I get… get… oh, not again…" He raised his handkerchief to his face. "Huh-wuffa! Wuffa! Keshhhhuffa!"

"Blessings," she said, quietly. She knew Remus didn't like to be fussed over. But, he was obviously miserable. "Allergies, huh?" she asked mildly.

He nodded as he cleared his nose. He got up from the table and leaned against the counter, his cheeks starting to turn the same hue that Hermione had seen at the Registry.

"You know, if they're going to call you into the Registry, the least they can do is dust," Hermione said, as she watched him suffer. "I mean, I've been there – they don't keep it well at all. You're human beings – you deserve better than… that…" Her words died on her lips as she looked at the dark and foreboding look that Remus was giving her.

"Hermione, what do you mean, you've been there?" There was no emotion in his voice. Only a cold monotone.

"Remus, I work at the Ministry. Of course I've been to the Registry."

"You can't go there, Hermione. It isn't safe for you. Those people – they're monsters."

Hermione was usually the first to argue, but right now, she didn't know which people he was talking about – the werewolves or the Registry workers. She decided he meant the former, but she would take it to mean the latter.

"Look, maybe I can pull some strings and get them to clean up in there some. Would that be nice?"

He sniffed, as another sneeze started to creep up on him. "Hermione, don't talk to me like I'm a fool. I know that you can't pull that sort of leverage on the Registry." He paused the moment he realized he'd been yelling. He looked at Hermione, with her strong determined chin pushed forward. But, hurt shone in her eyes. There was something else lurking there. Something that he couldn't place. He sighed as he felt the tug of guilt in the pit of his stomach. "Hermione, you cannot go back there. Promise me you won't go back there without me."

He felt his ears start to grow hot. Another sneeze was coming, and it was going to be a doozy.

"I can't do that Remus. If the Ministry sends me there, I have to go."

Hermione's voice was firm, and he knew that there was no arguing it. Not that he was in any position to argue anway.

"Huh-WUFFHA!" He caught the sneeze just in time, but it bent him at the waist. He stood there for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to subside. By the time it had, he realized that she had pulled him back to the table and lowered him into a seat.

"Then you know…" he said dubiously.

"Yea. I tried to find a way around it – but they've got it sealed tight. Bastards."

Remus nodded and rubbed at his nose. "I have to decide where I'd rather go – a Death Lab or Azkaban."

"Neither," she answered seriously. She couldn't bring herself to just _let_ him go to one of those places. He deserved happiness. He deserved someone who cared. He deserved someone to spend his life with. She was certain he wouldn't normally choose her – but she figured she'd do in a pinch. And it didn't get much more pinched than this.

"Hermione?" he asked, and then realization dawned on him. "No, I couldn't. It's very nice of you to offer, but I can't ruin your life like that. You're a sweet girl, but you…"

"Have already signed the paperwork… and they gave me this," she said putting a potion and a bracelet on the table.

Remus felt light headed. "Hermione do you know what it is for wizards to get married?"

"A bond between two people who love and respect each other and choose to spend the rest of their lives together," she answered with an innocence only a muggle could have.

"No dear. That's what it is for muggles to marry." He sighed and pushed down a wave of nausea. "Did you ever wonder why Narcissa never left Lucius? Even after she knew that she was in a bad place?"

Hermione thought about that for a moment. "I guess. But, I figured it was because of Voldemort's involvement and that she was afraid of what he would do to her."

Remus involuntarily shuddered at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. He could understand her logic. But, the longer he stared at the vial and the bracelet, the more ill he felt. She was really considering doing this. Without question. Just to save his life. He couldn't think of anything more touching. Nor could he think of anything more heinous.


	2. Vow

Arthur and Remus sat across the table from Hermione, both of them looking like she had offered Remus a fate worse than death – literally. She sighed heavily and fidgeted as she watched Arthur move his hand from his forehead to his mouth and alternatively scrubbing his hands over his face. Remus' allergies seemed to have backed off a bit, but were still apparent. Every once in a while he would sniff or sneeze wetly, and Hermione notices tears in his eyes. But overall, they all sat there in silence as the men figured out what they wanted to say.

"Hermione, do you understand what you're asking?" Remus blurted out, placing his hand over – but not on the contract.

"Of course – I'm trying to save your life!" she exclaimed. "And you're acting like I'm a fate worse than death! That you'd rather die or suffer than spend your life with me. I know I'm younger than you, but am I really that bad?" She hadn't meant to say all that. She had meant to just say 'of course'. But, she hated feeling like a five year old child who was about to be reprimanded for stealing cookies from the cookie jar.

"It's not that you're _bad_, Hermione. It's just that - ."

"Hermione, have you ever seen a wizard with divorced parents?" Arthur interjected.

She thought on that for a minute. Harry's parents had died protecting him. Ron's parents were together until Molly's untimely death. Neville's parents were still together, though a bit loopy still from the first war. Luna's dad never remarried after the death of her mother. She was stumped. "No one that I know of," she answered honestly.

"Do you know why?" he asked.

She shook her head innocently. It wasn't anything she really thought about. But, now that she had it did seem rather inconsistent with muggle activities. 'Then again,' she thought, 'almost nothing about the wizarding world is consistent with that of the muggle existence.'

"You've heard of marriage vows, yes?" Arthur asked.

"Of course!" she exclaimed. Suddenly a look of understanding crossed her face. "Vows…" she said slowly. "Marriage in the wizarding world is a vow."

Both men nodded.

"Yes," Arthur answered. "And each set of vows is particular to that couple. Unless they leave a clause that allows them to exit the marriage without ramifications, the effects of leaving a marriage is typically very painful – up to, and often including, death."

Hermione gasped. She had certainly not expected that!

"Now hold up there, Arthur," Remus added. "Not everyone who separates or leaves the binding vow of marriage suffers for it. There are reasons that one can leave – including abuse, heartbreak, death…"

Arthur went pale and nodded. "Of course there are, but those reasons have to be extreme. Otherwise you will always feel the emotions of the one you were once married to. Now, if you excel at compartmentalization, you won't have to worry about such things. But, for the rest of us, the pain can often be crippling and depressing – either because you are in pain or you feel their pain.

Hermione swallowed hard. She had hoped that she could stay marriage to Remus until the Ministry repealed the law, and then they could go their separate ways. Now, it didn't look like that was going to be the case – ever.

She thought on her boyfriend, Douglas. He was also muggle-born and the two of them had worked together for a few years before realizing how much they had in common. He had been in Ravenclaw and, while they knew each other at Hogwarts, their relationship had blossomed into something that they both wanted to nurture.

When the law came out, Hermione had mentioned to him that she had a very close friend who was a werewolf. Instead of responding with the usual scorn and disgust, a calm look crossed his face. "You can't let him die, Hermione," he had said. "You have to save your friend. We'll make it work one way or the other. But, you can't let him just die."

They had agreed that she would marry Remus, and then the two of them would see what would work after that.

She was surprised that the separation didn't bother her more, but she supposed it's because she figured it was going to be a temporary arrangement. "What's the potion for?" she asked, looking at the aqua potion that was still in the corked vial.

Remus blushed crimson. "Generally there are two. One for the … and … another for …" He sighed. "Arthur, I can't do this… I -." He turned quickly. "Huh-Wuffa! K-hah – Wuffa! Huh-Wuff!" He stood up and moved away from the table as he went to blow his nose.

"I guess that settles it," Hermione said. All thoughts of Douglas were gone, and tears crept into her eyes. "I get, Remus," she said too quietly for anyone but Arthur and a werewolf to hear, "I am a fate worse than death." She sniffed wetly and brushed the tears from her eyes.

Remus walked back to the table – his legs shaking beneath him. "No, that's not what I meant," he said, reaching across the table and taking her hand. "I'm just uncomfortable discussing such…matters with you."

"You're going to have to learn, Remus. If you agree to do this – you'll have to get used to discussing such things with your wife."

"The potion is for the wedding night – or some other night when the magic starts lacking, so to speak. The second, missing potion, is generally for the separation. It's supposed to stave off the side effects of the vow. And, there are reasons to break the vow. And we ill – WE WILL – have those stipulations. Including if you're not happy, if I hurt you, if you find someone else you love and want to spend your life with. I won't ruin your life, Hermione. I _won't_."

"And I won't let you die for some ridiculous want of mine either," she replied forcefully.

He shook his head. "The stipulations stay or we won't get married. I refuse to have it any other way."

Realizing that she wasn't going to win the argument she nodded.

Arthur stood up and solemnly said, "Then assume the position."

"What?" she asked.

"It's a vow, Hermione, take my arm. Arthur is going to officiate," Remus answered. "I mean, unless you want your family here."

Arthur decked Remus in the arm and shook his head.

Only then did Remus remember that both of her parents had been killed in the last war. They were running an 'underground' hospital for the sick. So many were helping the wounded, but there were very few helping those who got sick or malnourished or had breakdowns from the stress – and there were many of them. Remus, himself, had spent several weeks there. One night, while they were transferring the well for more sick, they was a surprise attack. Very few survived. Unfortunately, her parents were not among the survivors. "Geez, I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "It's okay. Sometimes I forget too. I keep trying to send them letters, and then I remember. So… it'll be an learning experience."

"For both of us," he said, forcing a smile. 'Stupid!' he chastised himself. 'Starting the marriage with making her cry. Yeah, brilliance.'

"So, let's do this thing," she said, changing the subject.

Remus and Hermione clasped forearms.

"Do you, Remus John Lupin, vow to take Hermione as your wife?" Arthur asked, tapping their arms with his wand.

"I do. I promise to take care of you to the best of my ability. I promise to be there for you wherever and whenever is possible. I promise to take the proper precautions to keep you safe from the wolf within."

A thin gold wisp of magic started to spiral around their arms.

"And, Hermione Jean Granger, do you vow to take Remus as your husband?"

"I do. I promise to support and care for you to the best of my ability. I promise to help you whenever you need, however I can. I promise to learn more about your affliction, so that I am a help, not a hindrance in your life."

Another thin gold wisp of magic started to spiral around their arms, entwining with the first.

"Do either of you have stipulations to the marriage?"

Remus started speaking immediately. "This marriage can end at any time for any reason that we both agree upon."

'It's an 'at will' marriage?' Hermione thought, but said nothing.

"Hermione do you agree to the stipulation?" Arthur prompted.

"I do."

The gold wisps became one gold band and, with a snap, they fell to the ground creating two wedding bands.

Remus picked them up and put Hermione's on her. "Thank you," he whispered.

She took his band and started to put it on his finger. "You're worth it," she said.

Remus signed the paper, which immediately disappeared in a burst of confetti.

Arthur smiled, half-heartedly. "Congratulations, you are married."

"The vial?" she asked, nervously. She was attracted to Remus on many levels. But, she wasn't ready to consummate anything yet.

"Not until you're ready," Remus said, handing her the vial.

She took it. "Not until _we're_ ready," she corrected him.


	3. Home

Hermione and Remus looked at each other awkwardly.

"Well… I guess that's it," Remus said, a dark tinge of guilt tickling his voice.

"So," Hermione started, smiling as she got ready to say a line that she never thought she would, "You're place or mine?"

"Hm?" Remus asked, looking at her. He had been lost in thought and hadn't heard her.

She understood. "Your place or mine?" she repeated.

He smiled coyly, and then thought about what she meant.

"Um, well… your place, I guess. I don't want to displace you…" he mumbled.

Hermione thought about that. She had a one bedroom flat in a nice part of North London. But, it was row-home style, and there was nowhere for him to transform. Her flat was big enough for two, but she could quickly envision them getting on each others nerves.

She shook her head. "Probably not. I live in North London, and-."

"You're right, he interjected. "I'm too much of a beast for North London."

"Remus!" she retorted. "That's not what I meant! I just meant there won't be anywhere for you to roam – or howl – when you transform."

"You two newlyweds could stay here," Arthur said. "You know Sirius left Grimmwauld Place to the Order – but after we no longer have use of it – he left it to you, Remus."

"But, the order is still using it," Remus argued. "It's okay – I'm sure we can fit in my place. It's small, but has a few bedrooms – one is storage right now. It's got a cellar, which is where I transform. And, I'm – we're – far from everything."

Hermione shuddered a bit. She knew she could just apparate from his place to the point at the Ministry. But, she would hate being that far from London.

Remus seemed to read her thoughts. "I do have a fireplace. I tend to keep it charmed, but I'll teach you how to use the underground of the floo network. It's not hard."

She nodded.

"I'm tell you Remus, that house of yours is no place for a lady. Stay here. It could use a lady's touch."

"If it's a lady's touch your after, Arthur, my place could use it just as much help."

"Remus, see reason here. This is closer to London – where Hermione works. It's the order headquarters, so we'll user your home as a base – something that you've always wanted."

Hermione could see how uncomfortable Remus was with the idea of leaving his home. She couldn't blame him either. She had only been on her own for a few years – having lived with the Weasley's just after the War. Besides, they would need to spend a good long time on their relationship – such as it was – and having people coming in and out as they pleased was not going to help those matters along. She could easily see them having deep emotional conversations or explosive arguments and then someone walking in and they would have to be hospitable.

"I agree with Remus," she piped up. "We shall live at his house." She started pacing as she thought out-loud, "I'll start packing my flat. I'll get Ron to help – maybe George will too. Remus is tomorrow okay?"

"Okay for what?" she asked, surprised that she had taken control so quickly and had agreed with him. He was certain she was going to fight to stay at Grimmauld Place. Arthur was right, it was closer to her job and London – the town she so obviously loved. Unbeknownst to her, it also had a cellar with a cage, in which Remus used to transform. He wouldn't have fought her on it, if she wanted it.

"For me to move in. I have to pack and shrink my stuff. And then we'll have to figure out what fits where. I have a pretty well furnished flat, and I'm not sure what I'll have to sell."

The idea of Hermione selling her things in order to move in with him made Remus feel sick to his stomach. "I'm sure we'll figure out a way to decorate that'll work."

She nodded. She had heard other Order members talk about his house before. They said it was old, dusty, and not well kept up. They said it was as if he didn't feel he was worth the time or effort to keep up the apartment. And, based on the conversations that she had with him, in the past, she figured that was the case.

"Come on Hermione, I'm sure Ron and George would be willing to help you move. I'll chip in where I can."

She nodded. "Thanks." She went to step into the floo with Arthur and then paused. She went back to Remus and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," she said, and quickly flooed away with Arthur.

Remus stood up. 'She kissed me,' he thought. 'She was forced to marry me and she kissed me.' He imagined the horror, anger, and hatred that most people would feel at the prospect and future that Hermione now faced. He felt extremely lucky that she was a friend of his. And, he felt a feeling of dread about how he would ever return the favor.


	4. Packing

"I just can't believe you did it, 'mione," Ron said, bagging the clothes she said she didn't want anymore.

"What? Saved a friend's life?"

"No, sacrificed yours." He also couldn't believe she was getting rid of so many nice clothes. Maybe he would bring the bag to Ginny before donating the rest.

"Why?" she asked, indignantly. "Am I that selfish?"

"That's not what he's talking about, Hermione," George said, coming into the bedroom and plopping down on the bed. "He means, weren't you getting on really good with that Doug fellow?"

"Well… yeah, but Douglas said he understood my decision," she said. She quietly whispered an incantation and her dresser shrunk down to the size of dollhouse furniture.

"Well," George continued on, "you know you're not going to be able to keep him, right? I mean you _might_ be able to remain friends and all, but you can't date him anymore. Blimey, you won't even be able to hang out anymore. It's like a normal person – Remus is a werewolf, he'll smell his scent immediately."

Hermione paused. She hadn't thought of that.

"You were going to cheat on him, weren't you?" Ron asked, incredulously.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, though she started to wonder what she had expected to come of the whole ordeal – really.

"I mean, you'll have to come clean to Remus eventually - ," Ron started.

"About what? Oh, sweetie, did I ever tell you about that guy I was seeing? Yea, Ronald, that'll go over swimmingly," she snapped. She sighed. "Douglas and I will just have to be friends. And, we'll have to learn to deal with that." She turned around and looked at them sternly. "However, I don't want either of you mentioning anything to Remus. He's upset about this as it is. And, I'm sure I'll learn to love him in time. I mean, it's not like arranged marriages are anything new. People have learned to love others – far less attractive, both mentally and physically – than Remus."

"Physically?" Ron asked with a laugh. "With all those scars? Hermione have you ever seen him topless?"

She shook her head. Even when they all went swimming, he _always_ wore a shirt.

"Well, let's just say, you won't find him so attractive when you see him – _really _see him," Ron concluded.

She shuddered, and promised herself she would find a way to help him heal his scars.

Meanwhile…

Remus paced his house. It was so dusty, he was embarrassed by it. He cast several cleaning spells, far more than he typically did. He tried to get the floors, walls, and even carpets cleaned, but they still looked dingy. He went upstairs and started to unpack the spare bedroom.

Box after box contained things from his Hogwarts days, and soon there were tears running down his sweat-soaked face. "It's not fair James," he whispered to a picture of James and Lily, laughing at Sirius, who was doing something off-camera. "Lily married you because she loved you. You courted her and she accepted your invitation of love and all you hold dear. Love always alluded me, my dear friend. And, now, I'm married – without the courtship… without the love."

He put the picture down and started to pace the room.

"Oh, it's not to say she doesn't love me – at least on some level. I mean, she has a promising future, and she threw it all away to be with me… the stupid child. I should never have agreed to it James. What did I cost her? A life? A boyfriend? No, I don't know if she had one – she's never spoken about one. But, now she'll never have one. Never have the chance for that passion that you and Lily had. I've robbed her of everything…"

The corners of his mouth twitched up ever so slightly. "I can hear you – you know. Telling me that I'm a good catch – that any girl would be lucky to have me. I can hear you telling me to go for it – and love her completely and without prejudice. She saved my life James…"

He watched Lily's eyes twinkle as she laughed. "She was my student you know. It always intrigued me how smart she was, even at that young age. But, I never thought that she would be my w-wife." He stumbled over the word, as it felt foreign on his tongue. "Oh, Lily, how much laughter have I cost her? I'm sick so often; weaker by the day. Most werewolves are dead by my age – was it worth it for me to stay alive, just to make her a widow? Or worse?"

He swallowed down a cold, sick feeling. "I don't know if I love her, James. I don't know if I ever will."


	5. Moving In

Hermione arrived at Remus' cottage with Ron, George and Arthur in tow.

"Now, Hermione, be kind to him," Arthur offered. "He's not used to having a woman around the house. And, he's certainly not always as… mild mannered as he acts when we're all together. There will be some learning – and a more sharp learning curve, since your marriage was so sudden." He unlocked the door for her and walked in.

He quickly walked back out and instructed the boys to put down Hermione's things. "He'll help you with your items." He paused. "Yes, that's good. We'll, um, we'll just apparate back." He gave her a quick hug. "Good luck, and call us if you need anything – anything at all."

"Okay, thank you…" she said, hesitantly. She wondered what had gotten into him, but wanted to start in her new life. She shouldered her pack and walked in.

The inside of his house looked dramatically bigger than the outside. She figured the outside must have been charmed. On the outside the cottage looked small, maybe a one bedroom flat, if that much. But, the inside had a reasonable sized kitchen – about the same size as the Weasleys, with stairs leading into the upstairs - attached to a nice sized living room. On one end of the living room was the fireplace, with boards nearby – apparently, he had just taken them off. The other side of the living room was shelved, with more books than Hermione could have imagined. Some looked old, others looked new, and all of them looked like they had character – like Remus.

Remus was asleep, sitting up on a beat up green couch. His head drooped backwards, at an angle that Hermione thought looked positively uncomfortable. A quiet snore emanated from him, and she found herself enchanted by the slow rise and fall of his chest.

She did a double take as she set down her bag. Remus had a scar that ran from his left temple down to just under his cheekbone. It was a deep scar that looked like someone had dug out a line in his face. Yet, in comparison to some of his other scars it was quite well healed. Too well healed. Which meant that it wasn't a new scar. Hermione whimpered to herself as she realized that he must also perform charms on himself.

Oddly enough it was the quiet whimper that jolted him awake. "Mione? I mean… you're here? Oh dear…" He pushed himself up off the couch with a creak and a groan. "When did you get here?" he asked, his voice and balance still affected by sleep.

"Remus, sit, it's okay," Hermione said, going to him.

He shook his head, as if to clear the bleary feeling from it. But, Hermione knew the look in his eyes.

Unable to find a handkerchief or tissue, Remus sneezed harshly into the crook of his elbow. "Huh-Wuffa! Heh-Shhessh!" He sniffed thickly and found his handkerchief – covered with blood, ash, and dust – sitting by the fireplace.

"Here," Hermione said, handing him her handkerchief.

"Doh," he replied, his voice full of congestion. "Id's oh – oh no…" He started to pant again.

"Here," she said, pressing it into his hand.

He plopped back onto the couch and sneezed twice more. "Huh-Chessh! Essshhh-sheesssh!" The last sneeze was as loud as it was wet, and set him off on a long gurgling blow.

When the fit had passed, he looked sheepishly at Hermione. "I'm sorry you had to see that. Not a very auspicious start, eh?" He coughed lightly.

She smiled. "It's fine. Really."

He looked at her handkerchief with disgust. "I'll throw it in with the others when I do the laundry."

She nodded, and went outside to get the rest of her items.

"Hermione, where are you?" he asked. He immediately jumped back onto his feet when he saw her with the first box. "My goodness. Here. Let me help you with that." He took the box she had been carrying and brought it into the living room.

When they had finished bringing her boxes in, he locked the door and looked at them. Three boxes. "Three?" he asked.

"Everything's shrunk," she said, gesturing with her hands. "And, judging by the looks of the your house, it's likely to remain so."

He visibly cringed at the mention of the word 'judging'.

Hermione caught on immediately. She dug her nails into the palm of her hand. "I'm sorry! That's not what I meant! I'm not judging you, Remus. That was stupid. Please forgive me."

He shook his head, and her heart sank into her stomach. "There's nothing to forgive. You weren't being stupid – just honest. My house is small, there is no denying that."

"But, clean – and has a lot of promise if -." She stopped herself immediately. 'Stupid!' she thought.

"If?" he prompted her.

"Nothing," she said, quietly. "Nothing at all. I'm sorry. I must be tired already."

He smiled knowingly. "If you redecorated?"

"I – I just…" she stammered. "It's your house. I'm sorry, Remus."

He smiled, as he sat back on the couch. "I'll admit it could use a woman's touch. It hasn't changed much since Lily offered to do the same. I was much more bull-headed back then. But, now, I could do for a change." His smiled vanished and sad eyes looked at Hermione. "But, I can't fund it for you. I don't have money for things like that. As it is there are weeks that food is difficult to come by."

"I'll fund it," Hermione said, smiling. From what she had seen so far, there wasn't much work needed. Some curtains here, new paint there, some furniture, but really he'd kept his home in great shape – and much cleaner than people had forewarned.

"You really did choose a dud of a husband. I mean, I'm sure I wasn't your first choice – pretty young woman like you probably had your pick," he continued as if he hadn't heard her. "I can't promise I'll never hurt you, but I can promise that I'll do my best not to – sickening as that is."

"Remus it's fine. It'll be a learning experience – for both of us," she said, recalling Arthurs words.

He nodded. "Well, let me show you where you'll be sleeping. I cleaned out a good deal of it. I still have some boxes in there, but I had to figure out what to do with them."

"It's fine," she said, shouldering her pack again. I'm sure I'll love it."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," he said, as he ascended the stairs.


	6. Dinner

As Hermione unpacked her things she notices the boxes Remus had mentioned. One had 'OP' written in black letters, another said 'Friends', and the final box said 'Black & Pettigrew'.

'Work, friends, traitors,' she thought as she enlarged her bed. Her twin size bed took up nearly a third of the room on its own. The idea of Sirius being lumped in with Peter started to bother her though. Sirius wasn't a traitor – despite how things may have seemed in the beginning.

She made her way to the boxes and opened the 'Black and Pettigrew' box. It had a good deal of rat paraphernalia in it, including still wrapped Christmas presents and pictures with Sirius and Peter in them. It also contained several journals that she realized – as she flipped through – contained Remus' thoughts and feelings after the death of the Potters, the false death of Pettigrew, and the imprisonment of Sirius.

She quickly closed that box, and opened the 'Friends' one. She was immediately greeted by a picture of Lily, James, Sirius, Peter and Remus. They were all smiling, but Remus kept dropping the smile and looking worried for a second. He was younger – obviously. But, Hermione was surprised at how handsome he was. His hair lacked it's current silver hue and he was much more lean and alive. She smiled and thought of how realidy she would have dated him back then.

'Well,' she thought, 'I guess I can pretend I did.'

She heard him ascend the stairs, his footsteps echoing hollowly. Quickly, she closed the box and sent back to unpacking.

He knocedk on the door – only entering when she answered. "Supper in ten, okay?"

She smiled and nodded.

He returned her smile and then backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hermione looked at the soup Remus had put before her – he called it stew – but it was really warm vegetables in water. There were flecks of rosemary and thyme floating on top. She made a mental note that either she would be cooking from now on, or she would have to each him to cook.

She watched as he devoured his hungrily, and wondered if it was the first time he'd eaten all day. A depressed feeling filled her stomach ans she realized that she didn't want to know. She tasted the vegetables and was surprised at how flavorful they were.

"I know it's not much. I meant to go shopping today, but – Huh-Wuffa!" He turned, catching the sneeze just in time.

"Bless," she said quietly. Then with more conviction she added, "Are you catching a cold?"

"Well," he answered with a sigh, "I do tend to sneeze fairly regularly. Even when I am in control, I still have acute senses – smell, sight, hearing and taste. Just about any new scent will make me sneeze, as well as dust, pollen, and even bright sunlight." He sniffed lightly, and brought his arm up to his face. "Huh-Wuffchh!" After discreetly wiping his nose, he added, "But, yes, I do believe I have come down with a cold."

Hermione blanched a little. She knew nothing about caring for an ailing werewolf. She knew that the transformation changed his physiology, and so normal potions wouldn't work on him. She also knew – from experience – that his transformations tended to take a lot out of him, both physically and mentally. She had thought about this before she gave him the option of marrying her, of course. But, she hadn't considered starting the marriage with it – especially not before she was able to read up on how to properly care for him. But, she realized, it didn't matter. He was sick, now. She was his wife, now. So, she had to figure out what to do, now.

"Well, then, as soon as you're done: I'll clear the dishes and you can get into something warm and comfortable."

He smiled, his amber eyes sparkling with flecks of gold. "That's very kind of you. But, it's just a cold. I'm still feeling relatively find. And, I still have an appetite, so it's nothing for you to be concerned about." He sniffed again. "Trust me, you will have plenty of opportunities to take care of a sick werewolf…what?"

She had raised and eyebrow at him. "A sick werewolf? Remus I know what you are – and I chose to marry you anyway. You can just say 'me' or 'me when I'm sick' or something of that nature. You don't have to put yourself down every chance you get."

He swallowed and blushed slightly. "Well, I guess you could say that old habits die hard."

"Look, I'm not mad at you. It just makes me sad when you put yourself down."

He chuckled. "It's not putting myself down if it's true."

She paused. He had a point. Whether either of them liked it or not, he was a werewolf, plain and simple. "Perhaps. But, I've seen how you view yourself when you think of yourself as a man, in comparison to when you see yourself as a wolf. And you think much higher of yourself as a man."

"You haven't seen the wolf. After you see what I'm capable of, you'll understand."

"Perhaps," Hermione said, exasperated. "But, for now – for me – could you please try to refrain from it?"

"I'll try," he said quietly. "But, I will not promise." He sniffed again.

"Deal," she said with a nod. "Now, what was it you were going to say?"

"Only just that there will be plenty of opportunities to care for… me… when I am ill, in the future. Trust me. I don't have the resiliency I had when I was younger." He brought his arm up again. "Huh-chesshh! Excuse be." He tried to sniff away the congestion, but it wouldn't budge. He was going to have to blow his nose – soon. "Should you wish to that is," he added quickly. He's already inconvenienced the poor girl by marrying her. He didn't want to force her to care for him as well.

"Of course I will!" she exclaimed. "You're my friend… and husband."

"Bud," he sniffed again, feeling a tickle start to spread. "I don't wandt you to feel obligated."

She reached across the table and touched his hand. "Remus, I married you because I wanted to. And, I will care for you because I want to as well."

He smiled, but couldn't speak. The tickle was starting to grow. He searched his pockets for a handkerchief, but couldn't find one – not even a piece of tissue or napkin. His cheeks flushed as he realized the disgusting scene that was about to transpire. "Just dond't wandt you to … huh… feel...for…forced… heh-huh-kesshtchoo!" As anticipated the sneeze cleared him out.

Feeling a burning blush rise into his cheeks and ears, he refused to lower his arm. His eyes darted around the room looking for anything that could be considered a handkerchief.

Realizing his dilemma, Hermione ran to her purse and pulled out a small pack of tissues. "Here," she said putting the pack on the table. "Don't worry, I won't look." Turning her back on him to give him some privacy, she winced as he wetly filled several tissues.

"Thanks… and sorry about that," he mumbled when he was finished.

"It's okay," she responded, a little too brightly, as she turned around. "Go. Get something warm on, and … well… what do you generally do after dinner?"

Remus smiled at her awkwardness. "I'll be right back," he whispered.

By the time Remus had come back in, Hermione had finished cleaning and was reading one of his anatomy of a werewolf books.

She smiled sheepishly at him. "I hope you don't mind," she said, gesturing to the book. "I'm rather ashamed of my lack of knowledge regarding werewolf physiology." She focused on him. He was wearing old ratty slippers, thin pants, and a short sleeved shirt. "Are those the warmest sleep clothes you own?" she asked, noticing the goose bumps on his arms.

It was his turn to look sheepish. "I generally go through clothes so fast that I don't even bother with getting new stuff, if it can be helped. Besides, on the little I am able to earn, I typically have to choose between clothes or food…"

"We're going shopping tomorrow," Hermione said, decisively.

Remus paled and became dizzy. His breathing instantly became labored.

"Remus, what is it?" she asked, going to his side.

"I don't have money for shopping. I'm sorry… so sorry." He sniffed, but this time it wasn't from his cold.

"Remus, you're not buying any of it. It's all right – I'm used to shopping for food, clothes, and other things – like books and decorations. So, now I'm going to take care of my husband.' Hermione was relieved in a way. She had been trying to get Remus to accept money from her for years – including buying things and having them shipped directly to him. But, he'd always been too proud to accept her charity. Now, she was finally in a position where even he couldn't say no.


	7. Douglas

"You should have seen it, Douglas, he had so very little, and he didn't seem to care. Just amazing," Hermione said, during lunch that Monday. "He felt guilty taking money for food this week – so I'm going to go food shopping after work."

"You had to clothe him, huh?" Douglas asked, getting more and more agitated every second Hermione spent talking about Remus.

"Well, he had clothes, but they were _so_ old that they were barely useful anymore. Just a shame. The anti-creatures laws are so prejudiced, and I wonder if people even know what they're afraid of."

"Mmm. And what of us?"

"Oh, we're through," Hermione said far more bluntly than she had intended to.

He did a double take. "Excuse me?" he asked, incredulously.

"Remus would pick up your scent in a second. And I can't hurt him like that. He's far too good of a person."

"He's a werewolf."

"He's a friend."

"He's a bloody werewolf!" Douglas yelled, slamming his hand on the table.

"You knew I was marrying him," Hermione stated.

"Yes, and I though we would continue with our relationship."

"Then you were foolish," Hermione said getting up to go.

"Do you love him, Hermione?" he asked.

She paused. "Yes," she said, in case someone was listening. "And, I'm sure it will only grow in the future."

Tears of pain stun Douglas' eyes. He had loved her. And she shoved him aside as if he meant nothing to her at all. "I'll get you back for this – you filthy mudblood."

But, really, the only blood that was seen that day was Douglas' when she broke his nose.


	8. The First Long Day

Remus' hand wavered inches in front of his face. A sneeze lurked there: he could feel it. His eyes started to water with the impending sneeze, as the tickle spread. "Oh comb ond," he whispered stuffily. "heh-eh…hechutsssh!" He sniffed thickly and waiting again. He felt a flush spread across his body. "Huh-Wuff! Huff! Chessuff! Huh-Wuffa! Etch-shesshoo!' He immediately blew his nosed in the hopes of releasing the irritant.

He shivered despite the warm clothes that Hermione had bought him. Microfiber is what she had called them. There were so soft and warm that he had been certain that they were charmed. But, between the clothes shopping, décor shopping, and house wares shopping he was thoroughly wiped out. "Huh-." He'd started to feel his heal decline while they were out, but didn't have the heart to tell her. She would have to spend so much of her life caring for him that he couldn't start their marriage that way. "Huh-Gusshh-hoo!" He sniffled thickly and forced himself to get off the couch.

He felt light headed as he hug up the curtains that she had picked out. He knew that he could start unpacking some of Hermione's boxes, thereby saving her the awkwardness of asking if she could put out some of her personal effects.

Slowly, achingly, he ascended the stairs. But, he paused at her door. What was he to go into her private space? Her husband, yes, but only on paper. "Hessh-essh!" The strength of the sneeze nearly doubled him over, as the world bobbed in front of him.

Thinking the better of unpacking for her, she started the slow descent of the stairs – feeling his bone creak with each step. "This is _so_ not fair to her," he muttered as he collapsed on the couch with a groan.

The door opened suddenly, and Hermione entered - her arms overburdened with sacks of groceries.

He blew his nose with a congested honk and went to help her. "You're home early," he said taking the cans of soup away from her and placing them in the cupboard. "Ack." He sniffed thickly again. Noticing that she bought tissues, he tore off the top of one of the boxes, and grabbed several. "Hek-esshhoo!" he sneezed wetly. He blew his nose fully and took the first clear breath all day. And smeeled blood.

"Yea, I got sent home for breaking my partners' nose."

'Explains the blood,' he thought. 'Wait…' "You did what?!"

"He called me a very unkind name, so I broke his nose."

"Why did he do that?" he asked, trying to keep his temper under control. He could only imagine what she had been called to make her violent. And, he wondered if he could disintegrate the body without being caught.

"I told him about us," she answered plainly.

"So, instead of being happy you got married, he called you a name?" This wasn't reasoning out.

"No… um… I told him… about us."

"That you married a werewolf?" Remus asked slowly.

"I told him that we had to break up."

Remus' breath caught. "You and I?"

She shook her head. "Me and him."

He paused. "Wait. You had a boyfriend?"

"Yea, Douglas and I started falling for each other after working together for almost a year. He totally supported my want and reasoning for marrying you. But, I don't think he fully understood that would mean the end of he and I."

Remus felt sick. "You could have told me," he whispered

"No, because you would have used it as a reason for us not to get married. And, besides, Douglas and I didn't have a future."

"So, I was your reason for breaking up?" Remus demanded angrily. "You're a smart girl. If you needed an out, I'm sure you could have thought of something else!"

She looked at him, shocked. "I know I could have. But, why lie when I could tell a simple truth?"

"Oh, so you weren't going to break up with him. Geezus, Hermione! You could have at least told me what you were giving up!"

"Why? So you could feel worse than you already do? So you could use that as a reason for us not to get married? Douglas certainly wasn't worth marrying – and he's not worth us getting a divorce. So, let it the hell go!" she yelled. Tears spilled out of her eyes. And she turned to make dinner. "Ow!" she exclaimed as she cut her finger.

Remus felt the wolf within stir at the sight and smell of new blood.

She rubbed her forehead – unknowingly spreading the blood on her face. She touched at the same space with her pinky. "Dammit!" she swore, running upstairs and slamming the door to the bathroom.

"Great going, Hermione," she whispered to herself. "Not only do you ruin everything with Douglas, but now you've ruined everything with Remus too. And to make matters worse, you put fresh blood in front of a werewolf." 'Why did I think I was smart enough to handle this?' she wondered to herself, as she sat on the bathroom floor and cried.

Remus quickly cleaned up the blood and got it out of the house. His nose tickled, but he had to quell the wolf first. That was most important. As the wolf within went back into hibernation, he sneezed wetly, grabbing his head as it pounded in protest.

He sighed choppily. "Dammit, Remus, you old fool. You ruined it. It barely even lasted a day, and you couldn't stop your self loathing long enough to take her gesture as it was meant? As respect. But, I can't just let her throw her life away!" he argued with himself. "But, she doesn't see it that way. Maybe – oh Merlin – James, Sirius, do you think she could truly accept me for who I am? And, maybe even learn to love me?"

In about fifteen minutes, Hermione came back down the stairs. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to cut myself in front of you. I'll be more careful next time," she said, not looking at him, as she started to cook dinner.

"I can do idt," he said, his voice still congested.

"No, you're sick. Just relax, and I'll handle it." Her voice was devoid of all emotion.

He sighed and got back up. "'mione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

"It's okay. I was stupid. I – I didn't put it right. I – I should have been more tactful. Or, maybe not told you at all, I don't know. It's- it's not your fault."

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Come on. Sit down." He steered her towards the kitchen table.

"I'm not mad that you told me…"

"Yea, yea. You're just disappointed."

"I'm not your dad, Hermione. I'm your husband. I was under the impression you were single – or that you'd broken up with whomever you were with prior to our marriage. I'm sorry for saying that you're using the marriage as a way out of your relationship."

"You're only being honest," she said quietly.

"So were you." He shook his head. This wasn't happening nearly as easily as he had hoped. He took a deep breath and suppressed a few coughs. "My temper… I don't always keep it in control."

She smiled at him sheepishly. "Mine neither…Remus, I'm sorry. There are at least a dozen ways I could have put that better."

"It's okay. I know now. And, I didn't mean what I said."

"It's okay. It's a," 'What had Arthur called it?' "learning curve."

He smiled and nodded. "What's for dinner?"

She smiled. "Yellow long rice, beans, carrots, and pork."

His mouth watered just at the sound of it. "Sounds great," he said smiling.

Hermione held her breath as he took his first spoonful – and promptly spit it into his napkin. "Geez, Hermione, what did you put in that? It's so – spicy!"

"It's not hot," she said, taking a bite. She thought it was quite flavorful.

"Not spicy hot… spicy – like spicy."

She recalled him saying he had a heightened sense of taste. "Crap!" she exclaimed, taking his plate from in front of him, and putting the remaining food in a food storage container. "I'm such and idiot!" she admonished herself.

"Hermione, it's not like that," he said standing up.

"It is," she said, her voice betraying the fact that she was on the brink of tears again. "Here, I'll make you… oh… what can I make you?" She thought for a moment and then dove in to the refrigerator. "I'll just fry you a piece of pork, with, um… some sage and basil and I'll put the carrots around it. Is that okay?"

Remus sniffed. "Huh…kesstchoo!" He nodded, not thinking about the fact that she couldn't see him. "Kesstchoo!"

"Bless," she said, as she hurried around the kitchen.

"Kesstchoo!" He blew his nose and watched her. He cleared his throat. "'mione. It's okay." He was surprised at how horse his voice sounded.

"Here," she said, putting a cup of tea in front of him. "It's spearmint with honey and lemon. It should help."

He blinked back tears from both his cold and the warmth that she brought his heart. He took a sip. It was warm, but not hot; sweet, but not sugary; healing, but not bitter. "It's perfect," he whispered.

She put down a plate in front of him. "This should be more to your taste."

She sat back down, but found that she was no longer hungry.

She watched Remus eat it – and _not_ spit it out. "Do you like it?"

"It's very good. Not nearly as spicy." He smiled, but it faded as he watched her try to hold back tears. "It _is_ good."

"It's not that," she said, quickly. "It's just that I don't seem to be able to do anything right today." Her voice got high and she started talking quickly. "I broke up with my boyfriend wrong. I got a three day suspension for breaking his nose. I told my husband wrong. I showed a werewolf fresh blood. And, then I cooked a meal that I found flavorful – which basically poisoned my husband."

He digested that. "I see why you would be upset." He started to snicker. "You broke his nose, huh? Must have felt good."

"Remus, he was such a possessive freak – and when he called me a mudblood, he deserved it."

Remus felt his blood boil. He hated the slang term for muggle born. "Was he pure bred?"

"No," she answered simply.

"Then he totally deserved it," he replied with a smile.

She nodded, and took a bite of her dinner.

"So, the Ministry knows about us?" he asked.

"Oh, yea. Um, they got a message as soon as you signed the paperwork. In fact, I had a meeting with them this morning. I have to wear a bracelet when I'm at work – you know, in case you turn me, and I become a threat."

He nodded. He'd heard of such things before. "I won't turn you," he said seriously.

"I know," she said lightly. She took a deep breath. She'd survived the first real day. By the skin of her teeth, but she had survived.

When she was finished, Remus cleared the table. "Why don't you get to bed? We've got all this week to talk, and such. You need rest – it's been a day."

She nodded. "Thanks. I think I'm going to take a bath first."

"Sounds good," he said, smiling.

Hermione got up to go upstairs, but not before giving Remus a kiss on the cheek first.


	9. Inquisition

Hermione awoke to the smell of bacon frying. Sunlight was peaking through tattered curtains that she hadn't noticed before. Slowly, she arose and drew the curtains, only to reveal that the window had been boareded up. She checked her clock. 10AM. Far later than she had slept in a long time.

She crept to Remus' boxes and opened the 'Black & Pettigrew' box. She pulled out one of the journals and began to read.

_May 27_

_James says I'm mental for thinking that something's wrong with Peter, but I'm seriously starting to become concerned. I mean, it's bad enough – what with my disappearing for a week every month – but now Pete's starting to as well. And, something I don't think James or Sirius has realized – it's the same week that I am. _

_I sometimes wonder what they don't tell me about my transformations. I sometimes wonder if I hurt them… and not a transformation goes by that I don't dread biting them – or worse. But, I have hope that they would tell me if I seriously hurt one of them. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did. In fact, there are some times when I don't think I have a right to go on living just with that chance. But, see, that's when I wonder – would they hide such things from me because they know I have these thoughts?_

_At least when I disappear, it's only 1 night because I'm a werewolf. The rest is me getting sick and then getting well. Peter never seems to exhibit signs of sickness. In fact, he always seems to come back stronger, more confident. And, then it fades over the month. I don't know. I just know that something is going on with Pete and I intend to find out what. _

She closed the book. She supposed that was written when Peter had aligned himself with Voldemort. She thought about what he had written: _there are some times when I don't think I have a right to go on living just with that chance. _ She wondered if he still felt that way. If he did, that meant that he had been harboring those bad feelings for himself for over 20 years.

'It's just not healthy,' she thought to herself as she dressed and went downstairs.

As she descended the stairs she smelled frying bacon. She smiled as she watched Remus scramble eggs. He seemed to have a bit more spring in his step this morning. But, no sooner had she come into the kitchen than did he turn himself around entirely, handkerchief pressed to his face, and sneeze twice into it.

"Bless," she said, as she came over and kissed his cheek. It was warm. But, not as warm has it had been when she kissed it the night before. He was definitely on the mend.

"Thank you. I had hoped to bring you breakfast in bed, but I slept in too late. I hope yo don't mind." He turned back to the food.

"Not at all. I thank you for the thought, but I prefer to eat down here with you. The only time I prefer to eat in bed is when I'm sick."

"Fair enough," Remus said with a smile, as he scooped eggs onto two plates and divided the bacon equally.

The started to eat in silence, when Remus jumped up and grabbed the orange juice from the fridge. "Would you like some?" he asked, grabbing glasses.

Hermione nodded, "Please."

"You know Hermione, I wanted to thank you for last night."

"I'm sorry?" she asked, clearly confused.

"When you made a mistake, you did everything in your power to correct it. When the dish was too flavorful, you made me another dish. When I over-reacted, and yes I did over-react, about you and Douglas, you fought back. And, then when I awoke and checked on you in your room," he paused and took a deep breath, "you were still here."

"Of course," she said, smiling. "What else would I do? Where else would I be?"

He poured himself a glass of juice and sat back down. "You know, Hermione, you are as generous as you are clever. Not many would have given me as many chances as you have."

"Really, Remus, it's not that big of a deal." She smiled sweetly.

The coo of an owl broke them out of their converation. Remus went to retrieve the note. "It's for you, Hermione. Apparently, the Ministry is wondering where you are and if you've elected to take a sick day."

"Where I am?" Hermione wondered out loud. "I'm suspended." She looked at the letter. It bore the Ministry's crest and was signed by her boss. "I suppose I should go in then," she said, grabbing her purse. "Thank you for breakfast, Remus. It was lovely. Really."

He nodded. "I understand. At one of us has to work – and heaven knows I have issues finding a decent paying job. So, go. I'll see you tonight."

Hermione left wondering if Remus would ever show her any affection. She thought of him making her breakfast – and offering to make it breakfast in bed. She supposed that would count for affection. After all… she had thought him fascinating and wonderful since he was her teacher. He had only considered her fascinating then. And now, she was a far cry from wonderful. 'It doesn't matter,' she told herself. 'It's only been three days.'

No sooner had she arrived at the Ministry than Arther escorted her down below.

"An interrogation?" she asked.

"An inquisition."

She made a noise as if someone had punched her in the stomach. "Douglas?"

"Has launched a formalized complaint."

She nodded. She should have seen this coming.

When they entered the inquisition chambers, she noticed there was a serious lack of robed figures. Instead of the customary 15, there were only 5. And, the head inquisitor was her boss: Rita Pleckard.

"Hermione," her boss greeted her with a smile. "Do you know why you're here?"

"Presumably for breaking my partner's nose."

Rita nodded. "That's right dear. As you know, we have a strict no violence policy."

"Yes, ma'am. But, seeing as Douglas and I were off Ministry property, on our lunch break, not speaking about Ministry business, I don't understand what the issue is."

Rita nodded agan. "Where were you then?"

"We were having lunch at Herbie's Café down the street."

"And what were you discussing?"

Hermione wrinkled her brow in thought. She couldn't understand where this line of questioning was going. "We were discussing my recent marriage to Remus."

"Ah, yes. The werewolf, correct?" Rita didn't seem fazed at all.

"Yes ma'am."

The robed figures wrote on their pads. One raised their hand.

"Yes, Mrs. Perch?" Rita acknowledged.

"Yes, um, Hermione, my dear, you do know that the recent law requiring all werewolves be married or face alternative living arrangements has been extended from six months of consistant married months to two years?"

"I did not know that," Hermoine answered honestly. "But, it is of no consequence. I married Remus because I love him. Not because of any law."

"So, if the law was extended to, say, ten years, you would not mind?" she pressed further.

"Not in the slightest."

"Interesting. I have no further questions."

"Now, Hermione, you say you are in love with this Remus…" she looked over a few papers, "Lupin, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And, yet, you were dating Douglas, were you not?"

"I was. I didn't think that Remus was interested in me."

Rita nodded again. "And where did you meet Mr. Lupin?"

"At Hogwarts. He used to be my professor."

"Did anything… untoward happen during that time?" Rita broached.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "He was my teacher, that is all."

"And, yet, you remained friends. Even after he was sacked and you graduated."

"Yes," Hermione answered, suddenly painfully aware of where this line of questioning was going. If she mentioned anything about the Order, both she and Remus would be a in a load of trouble. But, if she didn't come up with another reason fast, he would be accused of messing around with a student – something that would get him into trouble. This was a witch hunt to get at Remus.

"And why is that?"

"At first it was because Headmaster Dumbledore wanted me to take extra classes with Remus. I wanted to learn more, and he felt that Remus would be a good tutor for me."

"And, what did he teach?"

"Healing skills." It wasn't a complete lie. While working with the order, Remus taught her and her family basic magical healing skills.

"And then after you graduated?"

"Well by that point we had become friends. So, while I didn't have time to see him often, while I was at University, we would still meet for coffee about once a month."

"That sounds reasonable," Rita said, looking at the robed figures. "Does anyone else have any questions for Hermione?"

"I do." It was Douglas. "Why did you strike me?"

"You called me a mudblood."

"Would you have married me if this law did not come about?"

"No," Hermione answered wtihout thought.

Hurt, Douglas remained silent.

"Then with no futher questions, I hereby decree this inquisition adjourned. Hermione, you may go home. But, I expect you back to work – ready to train a new partner at seven in the morning this coming Wednesday."

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione said.

"You're home early," Remus said, as Hermione walked through the door.

"Yea, Douglas complained about my breaking his nose, and so I had to explain myself. I return to work on Wednesday."

"And?"

Hermione squinted her eyes. 'And?' she wondered. It had certainly been too short of a time for her to say that she missed him.

"Perhaps this will help jog your memory," he said holding out another letter from the Ministry. This one said that the time of her inquisition had been moved up an hour.

"Ah. Arthur escorted me from the apparation point. It was an inquisition about my motives for punching Douglas – and for marrying you."

Remus nodded. "I thought as much."

"It's not a big deal. I handled myself just fine." She spent the next fifteen minutes explaining what had happened.

He nodded. "You did well Hermione. I thank you for saying those things."

"What things?"

"About loving me and such. I truly appreciate how seriously you're taking this role."

"But, I …." She stopped herself. Was she really ready to say that she _did_ love him – that it wasn't an act? Was he ready to hear it? Deciding not, she continued on with, "But, I do love you Remus. You're a good friend."

"As are you," he said, blushing slightly.


	10. Mates

Hermione and Remus spent most of the day redecorating his house. Hermione was concerned that she was impressing too much of herself on his life and lifestyle. On the contrary, Remus was amazed at how well the few things she had purchased – a new couch, which folded out into a bed, new curtains, magical lamps, magically widening bookcases, and decorations including wall art.

Hermione was careful to supply Remus with tea and time to rest whenever he looked like he needed it. In return, Remus made her feel wanted and appreciated. He even hugged her from behind and said that the living room looked better than it had at any other point of his life.

Hermione was pleasantly surprised by the hug, and felt her skin crave more of his touch. But, she didn't want to rush anything either. From what she had been reading, actual affection from a werewolf was rare – especially after he had mated. Most of his books explained that like most pack animals, when werewolves mate, it was for life. She knew how close he and Sirius had been and wondered if they had been mates – and not just the friendly kind. Suddenly, her stomach twisted in guilt. Sure, she had married him to save his life – but if he was homosexual… then she had stopped him from ever being happy again.

"Remus, are you gay?" she asked suddenly. She wished she could recall the words before they got to his ears, but it was too late. What she wouldn't have given for a time turner right then!

He nearly spit out the tea he had been drinking. "Excuse me?" he asked, shocked.

"Well, you and Sirius… you were so close… were you ever…"

"Lovers?" he finished for her.

"Mated," she corrected him.

He put his tea down, and his eyes dropped to the floor. He sighed as he padded over to the couch, and held out his arm for her to join him.

"Sirius and I were… mated…yes," he admitted, still not looking at her.

She nodded. "If you ever feel the need to go out and… get some…then I won't hold it against you."

Remus looked at her oddly and then smiled. "I'm bi, Hermione. I like both, men and women. But, yes, Sirius was my mate. Best friend and lover."

'Just another thing we should have talked about _before_ marriage,' she thought. "And, when a werewolf mates, it's for life," she said slowly.

"Yes, but when that mates dies, a part of the werewolf dies too. And a part of me." Tears glistened in his eyes.

She held her arm open to him and let him snuggle in a bit. "I'm sorry, Remus. I shouldn't have brought it up. We'll be good companions, you and I."

Remus sniffed wetly and wiped the tears off his face. "Yes, you and I – we'll be good companions," he said, forcing a smile. 'You idiot,' he thought to himself. 'A girl her age doesn't want a companion. She wants a mate.' He sighed and leaned his head back, eyes closed.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

"I'm just thinking of all the things this is robbing you of."

"Like what?" she asked, ready to dispel any of his self-hatred.

"A mate."

"Mates are good if you want kids or a family. I've always thought marriage should be a companionship first. Passion and all that can come in time."

"Kids."

She made a sound of disgust. "Terrible little urchins. Never really been interested."

"Passion…" This one was whispered.

"In time, Remus. I'm sure it will all come in time. And, if it doesn't, well… we'll have to have a different sort of conversation – about where that passion can come from. But, I'm not terribly concerned. It's not like I need passionate swinging from the chandeliers sex every day." 'Though I'd like it every once in a while,' she thought, sadly.

He smiled at the prospect of them swinging from the chandeliers. 'More chances,' he thought to himself. "Thank you," he whispered, kissing her lightly on the lips. His heart flipped as they touched and he felt his body start to rise to the occasion.

She kissed back, suddenly feeling awkward. She turned her shoulder and held him close, resting her chin on his shoulder.

'Odd,' Remus thought, as he hugged her. 'I didn't know I could ever feel like that again.' He smiled. Maybe he wouldn't be such a disappointment after all.


	11. A Job

"Remus?" Hermione called. They had fallen asleep snuggled together, and she woke up before him. She noticed that he was still sleeping with his mouth open and snoring lightly, and wondered if he normally slept that way or if it was because he was getting over his cold. She had gotten up and cooked dinner – with a flavorful sauce that she could put on separately. She had noticed he had a vegetable garden and wanted to see what he had and what was ripe, but the sun had gone down already and she was still afraid to go out after dark.

Her initial call did nothing to stir him. She put the food out on the table and went into the living room. "Remus?" she asked a little louder, crossing her arms in front of her and shivering a little. She cast incendo on the fireplace and it instantly sprang to life… and so did Remus.

He was on his feet, wand out, eyes focused – in one quick motion that Hermione didn't even register until she had her hands on his arm. "Remus, it's okay. Remus!"

He hadn't responded to her voice at first, but then looked at her suddenly – taking in her face slowly. "'Mione?" he asked quietly.

"It's okay. I just lit the fireplace because I was cold."

He looked at her neck and noticed goosebumps. He lowered his eyes and blinked rapidly.

Hermione stepped back a bit, thinking that he was going to sneeze again.

Instead he started to speak. "I'm sorry. It must be cold in here. I don't think about that often."

"But, aren't you cold?" she asked.

"I'm used to it. I can't afford much."

"Remus… it's fire."

"And, it needs something to burn. The salamanders cost money, and for a long time it was dangerous to have a magical flames."

"You couldn't afford wood?" she asked. She knew there were some safe places to chop down wood, but those areas were fewer and farther between as muggles became more environmentally conscious.

He shook his head. "No," he whispered.

She felt sad. So very sad that someone so wonderful couldn't afford the things she considered basic. "Come. I've made dinner. We'll eat, and I have some ideas on how you can make some money."

"Whoring?" he asked, teasingly.

"No!" she exclaimed, hands on her hips. Then she saw the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "You're funny," she said and lead the way to the kitchen.

After they sat down and Hermione saw that he started eating, she started throwing ideas at him. "Have you considered teaching?" she asked. "You're so smart, and you're great with kids… I should know."

Remus looked at her, but didn't say anything. "You know I didn't think of you this way… then…"

She smiled. "I know! I didn't mean that you did. But, you saw my potential, and mentored Harry better than anyone else in his life – before or since."

Remus' face fell, as tears sprang to his eyes. 'Since…' Before he could even complete his thought, he felt Hermione's hands on his arms.

"It's okay," she whispered tenderly. "I miss him too."

Remus sniffed liquidly, feeling overcome with emotions. "It's so not fair. He was so young," he whispered.

Hermione rested her cheek on his head. "I know…I'm sorry. My words…"

"No, it's okay. You didn't –," his voice caught. "You didn't say anything wrong. I just miss him."

"I know… I understand… Me too." She kissed the top of his head, and let him gather himself together. "And you care about your students. Think about how much you helped Neville."

Remus blew his nose and worked on getting his breathing under control. "Neville was a bright boy. He just needed a little direction."

"And you cared enough to give it to him. Ask Headmaster McGonagall. I'm sure she'll say -."

"Hermione, no. Parents don't want a werewolf teaching their children."

"Yea, but you taught the people who are the parents now."

"Hermione no. Not for another 10 years or so…"

"What about a muggle school?"

He shook his head. "They want medical records and employment history."

"Right. Librarian?"

"How am I going to get the money to go back to school?"

"Well… the Ministry pays for schooling for spouses…"

"I'm sure they don't mean for werewolves."

"I can check," she argued earnestly.

He shook his head. "No." He took a few more bites of food.

"Researching?"

"Do it. But, it's on a contract base only. And it doesn't tend to pay much."

"Magazine."

He paused. "What?"

"I cannot be the only person who married a werewolf to save…" her words died off. "What?"

"You could be Hermione. You don't understand how very rare a witch of your kindness and talent is. Most people wouldn't mind if we disappeared. No matter how that came to be." He sniffed wetly again. "Wuffa!" he sneezed into his elbow. "Excuse me." He blew his nose again. He noticed the worried look Hermione was giving him and continued. "Nothing to be concerned about. It's a 'I was upset' sneeze."

She smiled and started to eat. "Even muggles like to pretend their werewolves. We could write a magazine called, 'Creature Marriages', or something. Personally, I like 'Living with a Werewolf'. We could market it to muggles who are into that sort of thing, and then the wizards who are in similar situations to us can also benefit."

"But where would we find people who are interested? It's not like werewolves are easily identifiable."

"Again, muggles. We could create a few issues, and exhibit at Cons… er… Conventions like Furry Con or Fur-ther Confusion, Memphis Fur-me, or Anthro Con. People there think that they have an animal inside them. I bet they could make up most of the subscription base."

The idea had merit. "What kind of articles?" he started to ask, but Hermione cut him off.

"Well, we would have to put things in like how to cope with the special needs of a werewolf. Maybe recipes that aren't too flavorful. We could even pay people for their articles. Most magazines pay per word, like 25 pence per word. It could be in my name, but you could do the work, and when we make a profit, I'll give you a check."

He nodded. "I'd be good with that. How do you know of these Furries?"

She smiled. "You'd be surprised at the schooling that happens outside University," she answered coyly.

After dinner they set to coming up with a name. After finally settling on, 'My Werewolf and Me', they came up with a list of article themes, like: herb gardens, things that are poisonous to werewolves, taking care of a sick werewolf, the differences between werewolf and human anatomy, cooking meals pleasing to both werewolves and humans, communicating with the inner werewolf, and a Q&A/Letters to the Editor section.

Hermione yawned widely. "I have work in the morning, so I should get some sleep. Feel free to write whatever articles you want. Remember not to let on that you actually _are_ a werewolf. I'll stop by the library tomorrow and get online. I'll get the info for starting a newspaper and maybe doing an online newsletter. I'll also find out when the next Cons are and start putting in for holiday time."

Remus smiled. He felt alive, like he had a purpose greater than himself to live for. "Good night, Hermione," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

xxxxx

When Remus woke up the next morning Hermione was long gone. He crept into her room and opened the box of James and Lily's stuff. He pulled out his favorite picture of James and Lily. "Can you believe it, old boy? Not only a witch who married me, but one who's helping me get a job. I feel alive, Jamie-boy! I feel like life is worth living. Oh, I wish you were here to see it."

xxxxx

"Remus?" Hermione called in as she came home. Immediately, her senses were hit with the pleasant aromas of artichokes, asparagus, hollandaise sauce, and breadcrumbs. She couldn't detect a meat, but knowing that she could eat herself stupid on the artichokes and asparagus, she didn't really care.

"Hey, love," Remus said, getting up from the table, which was littered with papers. He came over and kissed her on the cheek. "I've cooked dinner, and started a few articles. I have the 'Herb Gardens for the Health Savvy Werewolf', 'Potions for Life', and 'Inner Voices: Deciphering Yourself from the Werewolf'".

"Great," Hermione said, looking over the articles. For now, I'd put aside the 'Potions for Life' one. Remember, we're not supposed to let on that you're a _real_ werewolf."

"Right," he said, looking like she had let the wind out of his sails.

"But, otherwise the other two are a great start. I checked out how to get a magazine started, and it'll be really easy. I took next Monday off to get the legal paperwork done. Then the next Con is in a month or so. I tried to get us a merchant table there, but they're full up. So, we can go, and you can get a feel for what I'm talking about. Then there's another in about 3 months. I got us a table there, and we can sell the magazines as well as collect names and contact information for subscriptions for both online and paper formats. I priced out both, and it looks like a reasonable price for the paper format is about L30 per year, L35 for paper and online, and L15 for online. What do you think?"

"I think I'm in love," he said quietly.

Hermione's heart flipped. "Yea? You like it then?"

"I love it. You're so fascinating. I knew you were particular when I was your professor. Now I'm seeing it on a whole new level." He paused for a moment. "I robbed Douglas of something very special." He smiled as he looked at her, affection showing in his eyes. "And, I couldn't be happier."

"Thank you," Hermione said, positively glowing with delight. After a moment she asked, "Dinner?"

"Oh yes. I cooked one of my favorites. I hope you like it too," he said as he cleaned off the table.

"I'm sure I will," she said as she sat down and prepared to be served.


	12. The Argument

That weekend, Remus was feeling considerably better so they went to Diagon Alley.

"If you could buy anything for yourself, what would it be?" Hermione asked. All the stress of the previous weeks had built up and now she wanted to shop.

"Books," he said.

"Have you ever played an instrument?" she prodded. He had plenty of books, and once she was unpacked he would have plenty more. She wanted to dig deep and get inside his head – further in than anyone except Sirius. She wasn't trying to replace his past. But, she was trying to enhance his future.

"Played violin when I was a boy," he mumbled. When she started to head towards the music shop, though, he grabbed her arm. "Hermione, no. Please. I – I can't let you. Not before I give you something."

"What?" she asked.

He instantly realized what he said. "I don't have anything yet," he admitted, with a sigh. "But, you've done so much for me, and I nothing for you. This is going to become one sided very fast, and in a matter of months, you'll resent me."

She paused. For the first time she could see him being correct. She was being too impulsive. Going too overboard. "Okay," she said. "Um, I wanted to get some new outfits for work. I know that clothes shopping doesn't interest men so…"

"Do you want a second opinion?" he interjected.

She smiled. "I'd love it!" she exclaimed, and they headed to the clothier instead.

Forty-five minutes and five outfits later they were back in the main alley.

"You do have a lovely body, Hermione," he said, blushing slightly.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed and kissed him on the cheek.

"Let's just get some groceries and then we can head back home, okay?"

He nodded, and rubbed his nose with his knuckle.

"Too much, too soon?" she asked, assuming he was going to sneeze again.

"Hep-TisshhShuhh!" he sneezed wetly, quickly unfurling his handkerchief and blowing his nose lightly. "Allergies," he whispered. "It's rather a constant thing –sneezing. Trust me, you'll know when to worry."

"Bless you, anyway. And, we'll get you some allergy potions, okay?"

"Thangs, but I can't take them. They interfere with my dailies too much."

"Dailies?" she asked, quietly.

"Daily potions."

"I didn't know you -."

"I – It's personal. I don't show anyone, or talk to anyone…"

"I'm your wife!" she exclaimed, a little too loudly.

He tipped his head back. "Pessshhtew!" he sneezed wetly, in to his handkerchief.

"I'll get them tomorrow," Hermione said abruptly. "Come on. Let's go home."

"It's ju-huh-st because of the flowers that are in bloom. It's okay. Food is appar-hah- arent-ly im…im..important. Hesshsshh!" He rushed the last word, and sniffed wetly after the sneeze.

Hermione set her jaw and picked up the pace slightly. She didn't want to smother him or act as if he didn't know what was best for himself. But, she didn't like the angry flush that was appearing on his nose. If it truly was an allergy, she wanted to take him from the stimulant as soon as possible.

Remus insisted on waiting outside while she shopped, so she hurried and picked up only the things she knew they needed. When she came back outside he was leaning against the building, arms crossed in front of him, with his chin touching his chest and his eyes closed.

"Rem?" she asked quietly.

His eyes opened at once. "I'm fine," he said, when he saw her concerned look. "Just tired all of the sudden."

"Is this normal?" she asked.

"With the moon being so close, yes. My body craves sleep."

"Why didn't you tell me?" The hurt was clear in her tone.

"It's not that big of a thing. I know my limits. But, the allergant took more out of me than I expected. And, I," he paused to yawn deeply.

"Come on. We're going home, now," she demanded. "And, when you're feeling better, you're writing an article about this."

"That I'm too old and weak to handle a shopping trip?" he asked, only half teasing.

"No, the schedule of a… of yours. When you need sleep, when you need meat, when you are most likely to get sick and why."

"Good idea," he said, pausing to sneeze once more.

They couldn't get to the apparation point fast enough for Hermione, but she was glad when they were finally home and Remus was napping in bed.

While Remus was asleep, she unpacked and cleaned up the rest of her belongings. The room was packed to the brim, so she brought her books downstairs and put them in the three open shelves that were left. She also enlarged one of her book cases and filled it with books. There were more books than there was room, but she was not surprised.

It was still too early for dinner, and she didn't want to wake Remus by checking on him, so she went back to her room. She opened the box where she had found his diaries and flipped through. She knew that she should ask his permission at least, or leave them alone completely. But, she was very curious to get insid his head, to find out what makes him tick, and find out why even after all these years he was still so timid.

As the hours passed, she read about the closeness that developed between him and James, Sirius, Peter, and Lily. She read about the fear of telling them his secret, and how Peter never treated him the same again. She read about the crush he had on Lily, and how jealous he was of James' relationship with her. She read about heartache, heart break, and abuse he suffered at the hands of stupid kids and ignorant adults. And, she finally understood that he was shy and super kind because he was terrified that if he did something wrong people would abandon him. Remus, her past professor, long time friend, and husband was afraid of being abandoned, and he was terrified of dying alone.

When she heard his footsteps in the hallway, she jumped off her bed and put the diary back. She couldn't believe the pain that he had to endure – physically, mentally, emotionally. She knew she had to pretend to be blissfully unaware of his past until he told her himself. But, maybe she could steer the conversation in that those directions.

A quiet knock came on her door. She grabbed one of the photo albums out of the box and opened it to a random page. "Come in," she said quietly.

"Hermione, what did you… you're room. You finished it." He looked around. "It's a bit cramped, though," he said with a frown. Then his eyes rested on the book in front of her. "You went through my things?" he asked defensively.

"I was just looking at pictures," she said, finally looking down. It was Remus as a child, with his parents.

She swallowed hard. "You mom was very pretty. You have her eyes."

In a swift movement, he came in and picked up the book. "All you had to do was ask. I would have shown you anything – answered any questions. Now… I just…"

"Remus, they're pictures…"

"And, they're mine! What else did you go through?" he asked going to and opening the boxes. "You moved my diaries. You read them, didn't you?"

Hermione sucked on her bottom lip.

"Your silence says volumes." Remus' voice was low and rumbling.

"Remus, I'm just trying to understand you."

He took a deep breath. "Anything Hermione. I would have answered anything. Now I can't trust you – cause you don't trust me. You thought you had to go behind my back!?" He was yelling now, his face red with anger and his eyes nearly bleeding with hurt.

"Rem, I -," she started getting up and coming towards him.

"No, just stay back. I can't trust you. I don't believe you!" He took a few panting breaths and she thought he was going to sneeze again, until she saw tears glistening in his eyes.

"I trusted you… and you're just like everyone else."

Hurt, but caught, Hermione couldn't think of what to say. "I'm sorry, Remus."

"I can't talk to you right now," he said, backing out of her room and shutting the door.

Hermione sat back on the floor. "Stupid child," she muttered to herself. "I need to take a walk…" She looked outside. It was getting dark. She didn't want to wait, but she didn't want to go downstairs either. Remus needed his space.

So, in a flash of brillance, she opened the small window, squeezed herself out, and carefully climbed down the side of the house.


	13. Lost

Hermione walked until her legs hurt. What was she going to do? Something so innocent as pictures… but she knew it wasn't really about the pictures – it was about the diaries. She knew she had no right to read them. But, then why did she? Why was snooping so mucy better than asking? She knew the answer immediately: tears.

She had seen Remus cry far too many times as of late. She paused for a second. She had seen him cry nearly every day since she proposed that they get married. A sinking feeling hit her in the gut, so hard it made her sink to her knees and start to cry. She was hurting him. Just her mere presence was hurting him. Maybe he wasn't being timid because he was afraid she'd leave. Maybe he was being timid because he didn't know how to tell her that she was causing him pain.

She thought back to the what had just transpired. Was that because it was the straw that broke the camels back? Or was it that it was the first real problem? Her mind was spinning with all the possibilities and she couldn't figure one out from the other. She knew she couldn't ask for a divorce, but she didn't want to hurt him. She thought that she had been doing well, but obviously that was wrong too. She wondered what the law would say about werewolves whose spouses had died, through no fault of their own. But, something told her that the law wouldn't believe that the human spouse of werewolf would die through no fault of their own.

She sighed. She was really and truly trapped, and it was in a hell of her own making. She turned to walk back and realized that she had really walked far. It was dark now, and there was no sign of light from his cottage. She gathered up that Gryffendor courage and started walking in the direction she was fairly certain the cottage was in.

Hphphphphphp

Remus paced the downstairs of the house. "How could she invade my privacy like that?" he snarled, banging his hand on the kitchen table. "I would have told you anything, ANYTHING!" he yelled. But, there was no response. He didn't know exactly what he expected, but her silence only infuriated him further.

In a burst of energy, he flipped over the kitchen table, sending things scattering all over the kitchen.

"Oh that's brilliant Remus. Start throwing things so that she's terrified of you. She'll never come downstairs if you keep this up."

He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself. It was true that she'd read some old diaries, and looked through some old pictures. But, in reality how bad was the deception? It wasn't as if she had gone through his current diary. These were from his days at Hogwarts.

He took a deep breath. Those were angsty times, before he knew who or what he could trust – including himself. Maybe they were good for her to read – to get some background on him. But, all the same he wished she asked. He couldn't help but feel like some part of his past had been violated. But, still… he looked around – noticing all of Hermione's little changes – she had been so kind to him. And, she still seemed to tiptoe around him as if she would break him.

He sighed and righted the table. As his adrenaline returned to normal he decided that she wasn't trying to be hurtful or deceitful – but was trying to get to know him on a deeper, more intimate level without breaking him.

"Remus, you old fool," he muttered. "You could have bonded over the pictures and the diaries. Instead…" He thought about the way he had yelled at her, berated her, accused her of all sorts of things. He sniffed wetly. "Now she's up there, trapped in her room, afraid to come out. And, who could blame her?" He stifled a sob and knew what he had to do.

Forty minutes later he was knocking on her door, with two plates of food and the photo album in his hands. "Hermione? Look I- I'm sorry. Can we talk?" he asked through the door.

Silence.

"Look, I'm sorry I got so angry. I didn't mean to …" Didn't mean to what? He meant to get angry, but… "I didn't meant to yell at you. I just want to talk about what you read, and things you know now."

Silence.

The knot in his stomach grew larger. "There's food when you want it okay? I'll just leave it here by the door." "You could not be more stupid," he said to himself as he went to bed.

Hphphphphphphp

Hermione continued walking, but she still could not find the cottage. "Great. Just great," she told herself. "Now what?"

She had sufficiently cooled down enough to know that she needed to apologize to him and ask him what she needed to do to make amends. But, that was if she could ever find him again.

She shivered against the wind and looked up at the sky. The moon was nearly full. It was only a few days earlier that he had warned her that he may be short with her. 'This must have been what he meant,' she mused. But, deep down she knew better. She knew that she had brought this on herself. And, as she sat down in the grass and began to cry, she knew she didn't deserve him.


	14. Reconcilation

Remus awoke to the sun in his eyes. Quickly, he got up and went to Hermione's door. The food was untouched.

He sighed and knocked again, assuming that she had fallen asleep. "Hermione?" he asked, as he knocked on the door.

Silence.

If there was one thing he couldn't deal with it was a total break down in communication. "I'm coming in. I hope you're decent." An image of her injured or dead flashed through his mind, but he shook it off. She must have falled asleep – and that's all.

But, when he opened the door, the room was empty. He sniffed the air, but her scent was gone. She hadn't been there in quite some time. He noticed the open window and quickly looked outside. She hadn't fallen, that was good. But, he did realize that about ten feet below the window was the overhang to his front door.

'Okay, she went for a walk…' he started to think about when she might of left. He closed his eyes as a wave of coldness fell over him. "Don't tell me she went last night. All night… out there…," he muttered. He started to pant then ran to the front door.

"Hermione!" he called, as he threw open the front door.

Nothing. Not a spec on the horizon; not her working in the garden; not her voice calling him back. Nothing.

He swore and ran upstairs to change. The valley's weren't safe after dark. He was not the only werewolf that ran through them. And, even though the moon wasn't full, it didn't mean that it was safe to wander around after dark.

He was about to leave again when Hermione walked in the door. He was immediately stricken with a migraine as he felt himself relax. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Bless you," she said, as she set to making breakfast.

He gasped in a quick sob, and felt his way into a chair.

She stopped and turned around, keeping her hands on the counter. "Are you okay?" she asked seriously.

He took a deep, slow breath and released it slowly. He looked up at her, barely containing the tears in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked back.

"I'm fine. Really. I took a walk after… well – after. And, I walked too far and lost sight of the house. As soon as I woke up this morning I kept walking back in the direction I thought the house was in and I was right. In fact, had I kept walking, I would have made it back last night."

"Hermoine," he took another deep breath as a pang of pain struck him behind the eyes.

"Remus, I'm sorry," she blurted out, coming to the table. "I know I shouldn't have gone through your personal belongings. I was just so curious about your past and I…" she stopped. "No, there is no excuse for what I did. I apologize. Just tell me what I need to do to make it right. To earn back your trust. Anything – whatever it is, I'll do it." She swiped a tear off her cheek.

"First," he started, his voice shaking with emotion, "I cannot express how happy I am that you are safe. The valley is pretty but not safe… at least not after dark." He took another deep breath.

"You're not okay," she said, sitting down across from him.

"There's a lot going on in my mind right now," his whispered, pressing his hands to his eyes.

"I know… just let it out. Whatever it is." 'I deserve whatever I get,' she thought.

He swallowed and nodded. "When did you leave?" he asked. "I don't know how much you heard, but I was very angry and hurt last night. But, that didn't give me the right to scare you."

"You didn't scare me," she answered, immediately. "I left not long after you went downstairs. I needed air and to think. I don't like feeling trapped, and I knew I couldn't go downstairs to leave."

He shook his head. "And that's just it. You shouldn't feel trapped. You should feel comfortable enough to tell me you're going for a walk, and will be back. It would have been okay."

"Good to know," she said quietly.

He swallowed. "I'm glad you didn't hear my rage. I think it would have destroyed everything that we have built." He bit back another sob.

'See?' she heard in her mind, 'you made him cry again.' "Remus?" she whispered. She wanted to go to his side, take him in her arms and hold him close. But, she wasn't sure that it was appropriate.

He put both hands over his eyes again and cried for a few moments.

"I so sorry, Remus. I – should I go?" she asked.

"No," he whispered. "Just tell me what you read about."

She pursed her lips. "I was reading about the time you spent at Hogwarts. When you told James, Sirius, and Peter about being a werewolf, and how Peter always treated you differently afterwards. I read about Lily, and how you kept getting turned down – for dates, friends, jobs just because people thought you were strange, sickly, and then when people found out you're a werewolf."

He nodded. "Pathetic, no?"

"It is," she agreed, "but you're not the pathetic one. What kind of closed minded idiots would push someone away because they're different?"

"Kids."

"If it was just the kids, I could kind of understand. After all, I thought Colin Creevy was a creepy little kid – but others who got to know him said he was really nice. But, adults, teachers – it's just so wrong."

"Do you understand why I'm tentative now?" he asked.

"It's your nature," she answered, unwilling to admit that she understood his fears.

He saw through it and smiled. "Thanks."

"Remus, how do I make this up to you?" she asked, unable to keep the tears from forming in her eyes.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because you're going to divorce. And, it's going to be my fault."

He smiled and chuckled a bit. "As you've said, you can't get rid of me that easily. Yes, I was angry. But, really, if I didn't want you going through those boxes, I shouldn't have left them in your room. How many did you go through?"

"Just the one."

"And the albums."

She blushed. "None. I just didn't want you seeing me read your diary."

He chuckled and raked his fingers through his hair. All of that for half of a diary that was over twenty years old. "You can read whatever is in those boxes. But, I want you to talk to me about them. If you think I put up with too much, ask me why. If you think I should have done something differently, tell me. And, please, ask me about the pictures. I may cry… heh… who am I kidding? I Will cry, but it'll be so nice to share those memories with someone."

"Really?" she asked, not believing what she was hearing.

"Really. If I know what you're reading, and what you're thinking, I'm less likely to get defensive."

She nodded. "Again, I'm-."

But, he held his hand up to stop her. "No more 'I'm sorries'. You're forgiven. A lot of this is the moon – only days away. It's hard for me to keep my composure when things are perfect. Any little thing can cause – well what you saw and what you thankfully missed."

"I hope to be able to share that with you someday."

He smiled. "You say that because you are innocent about many things still. I personally hope you never seee that side of me. But, I know you will. And, hopefully, we'll come out of that too."

"We will," she replied brightly. "Because we both want to."

He smiled, and then winced again.

"What is it?" she asked, getting up.

He massaged the bridge of his nose again. "The swell of emotions, the rush of adrenaline, all of it caused a migraine, and I'm trying to ignore it."

She smiled. "Can you have feverfew?"

He nodded.

"Good, I'll make you some tea."


	15. The First Moon

Warning: Some mentions of blood and other icky things.

Hphphphphphp

Remus gasped and writhed in pain as the moon drew nearer. He had wanted to prepare dinner for Hermione, so it would be ready when she came home. But, he had waited too long and now the moon was beginning to wane, and the pull crippled him, leaving him writhing on the kitchen floor.

He had originally collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs, trying to gain the strength to open the silver door to the basement and cage himself away, but the pain had become too strong too fast and he slid to the floor instead.

The fire sprang to life and Hermione took two steps out of it before noticing him.

"Remus!" she exclaimed falling to her knees.

"The basement… now…" he gasped.

She placed a hand on his shoulder as she extracted her wand from her purse. "You're burning - ."

"It's the wolf, he's coming out. The change – it's starting. Please get me downstairs or get ou-!" he finished with a wolfish howl, and she noticed his eyes had begun to dialate.

She remembered when Sirius had held him and tried to convince him that he was a good man and that he didn't need to change. But, she was certain that it wouldn't work this time.

With a quick levitation spell, she brought him downstairs and locked him in his silver barred cage. It broke her heart to do so, but he had explained the implications and the danger of him roaming. He told her that he would tear his house apart and kill her if the padlock wasn't secure. He also made her promise that she would stay locked in her bedroom, if he couldn't convince her to leave the house.

Hphphphphphphphp

Hermione didn't sleep a wink that night. The tormented howls of the wolf chilled her to her soul. She scribbled down everything that she was feeling and wrote the rough draft of her first article for the magazine: "The First Transformation – How to Standby and Not Lose Your Sanity."

Hphphphphphphphp

In the morning, she dressed in neutral tones and armed herself with potions, bandages, and the vials of his 'dailies' that he left for her. She also brought blankets, as he wouldn't be safe to move for at least a few hours yet.

"Remus?" she called, as she went down the stairs.

The only response was a weak whimper.

Swallowing her anxiety, she descended the stairs slowly, armed with the blankets and potions. Her nose twitched at the smell of blood, excrement, and vomit. When she turned the corner, she saw Remus – her Remus- covered in blood, lying in his own bile.

"Hermie… no…." he whispered, coughing lightly, and whimpering each time.

"Rest now, Remus. It's okay…" She looked at his mangled body again, and decided to rechoose her words. "It'll be okay. I'm here. I'm going to help."

He coughed again, harsher this time, and spit out a small amount of blood.

She ran a quick diagnostic spell, noticing all of the broken bones and torn muscles. There was some internal damage as well – which was where the blood was coming from. She tried to ignore the fever – as she wouldn't know what that was from until the wounds were properly dressed.

Slowly and painstakingly she healed and wrapped each broken bone. She then made him drink one of his dailies, which included a smattering of Agrimony to stop the internal bleeding. She wrapped him up with the blankets and let him lay his head in her lap as she raked her fingers through his hair, musing at how soft it was.

"Hermie…heh…" his nose wrinkled and she cursed herself for forgetting tissues. "Hepshssshoo!" He sneezed freely, and she watched the sneeze particles land haphazardly on the blanket. He coughed and groaned in obvious pain.

"I know, Rem," she soothed. "I'll take you upstairs soon."

"Hermie, I don't feel well… my stomach… it hurts…"

"It's the internal bleeding. The Agrimony will heal it soon, and then it'll feel better."

He paled and Hermione wasn't sure if he was going to be sick or pass out. "Clever, he said at the last minute.

"I researched it Rem. It won't hurt you," she assured him.

He nodded, eyes closing from exhaustion. Suddenly they flew open again, and Hermione was certain he was going to be ill.

"You need to be at work!" he rasped.

"Soon. I'll leave in about an hour – after I get you to bed. Then I'll come back at lunch and right after work." Guilt pulled at her stomach. "I feel like I should stay with you…"

"Time enough for that," he assured her. Then with a smile he added, "You're a good girl, Hermione."

She smiled back, "Thank you."

True to her word, she came back at lunch and right after work. He had been asleep both times. She ran a quick diagnostic each time – the fever was relentless, and he was developing some congestion. But, the internal bleeding had stopped and for that she was grateful.

She put in for time off for the next day. When inquired about why, she said she had a doctors appointment. But, in reality, she couldn't stand to leave him alone for another day.


	16. Recovery The First of Many

Hermione replaced the self cooling wash cloth on Remus' forehead after he twitched and shook his head, moaning as if in pain.

He had not awoke in several hours, but his rest was not calming. He moaned and mumbled in his sleep, and sometimes he could cough a wet harsh cough that made her wince. She had run several diagnostic spells making sure that his lungs weren't filling with fluid. He remained congested, with a high fever, but nothing more serious than that.

"M..mione?" he asked, his hand flopping over his torso.

She moved from the seat she had brought to his bedroom and sat next to him on the bed. "I'm here, Rem."

He gasped and started to sob, not opening his eyes.

"Remus?" she checked his pulse – which was racing, and made sure that the washcloth was still cool.

He whimpered and turned towards her.

She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and let him rest his head on her leg. "It's okay, Remus. You're safe. I'm here." She placed the newly fallen washcloth on the back of his neck and placed a warming charm on the blankets when he started to shiver. "It's okay. I just need to bring the fever down some."

He coughed and nodded, wrapping an arm around her. "'kay," he whispered.

"Do you want a drink?" she whispered. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since his transformation, and he had not eaten or drank anything.

He sniffed wetly. "No," he whispered. He cleared his throat and nuzzled into her.

"Remus, it's not really a question." She put a cup with a straw in front of him.

He pulled a sip and coughed lightly.

"One more," she coaxed.

He did as he was told.

"You're in pain?" she asked, as she set the cup back down.

He paused for a moment and she thought he had gone back to sleep. "Yea," he said, his voice full of sadness.

"What can I do?" she asked, stroking his hair.

"Done plenty."

"No. No… not so long as you're in this much pain."

"Just sore… so… sore – Hehssshhhh!" He sneezed freely, not able to raise his hand in time. "Sorry…."

"It's okay," she said, reaching over and handing him a tissue. "I can assume you're getting sick?"

"Not yet. Oddly… this is just from the trans… formation."

"Well, I have a guess on that. I was thinking that maybe the illness is lurking downstairs. Aside from cleaning the blood…"

"I scourge and disinfect after every transformation."

"Okay, then maybe it's just that being downstairs – the draft…"

"Hermie… it's –Petsheet!" He stifled the sneeze and cried out in pain.

She gripped his shoulders. "It's okay, Remus," she said, holding him tightly. "Don't stifle. Don't hide. It's okay. I'm your wife. I'm your friend. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Part of being a werewolf," he said, continuing his train of thought. "It's nasty, ugly. I'm sorry." She felt her jeans become slowly wet and realized that he was crying.

"It's okay. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." She placed a kiss on his head.

Slowly, he drifted back to sleep.

Not quite true to her word, she was downstairs the next time he awoke. She looked up from her book as he slowly descended the stairs.

"Rem, what do you need?" she asked, jumping up and running to the base of the stairs, incase he fell.

"Nothing." He took each stair slowly. "I just needed to get up."

She sighed and forced herself to step back. Smothering him would do nothing good.

"I look pretty good," he said as he eased himself onto the couch. "You did a great job healing the injuries. These…" he gasped in pain. "These won't scar." Noticing how she looked at him he continued. "Don't look at me that way. The pain is normal. It'll go away in a week or so. The …the illness is usually the thing. And other than the fever and slight respitory response… there is no illness. So… thank you."

He coughed harshly, his body shaking from the force.

She sat down next to him. "I feel like I should be doing more."

"Stop guilt tripping yourself. Jus-just stop," he snapped.

She leaned away from him instantly.

"Pain is part of the disease. Illness is part of the disease. And there's nothing you or I can do about it." He looked at the hurt look in her eyes and sighed. "I know you just want to help. I do. But," he coughed into the crook of his arm and continued. "But, your care and concern are working wonders. Please don't stress about this. You'll know when to stress…" He sneezed twice in a row, bending at the waist, and then screamed pulling himself back.

"Now?" she asked.

"No," he said with a smile. "Not yet."


	17. The Portrait

Remus sniffed, and blew his nose lightly. "And see that wah…one? Kepsshhew!" Saturday night, a cold settled in his head making him generally uncomfortable, but not nearly as miserable as he would have been without Hermione's care. He wondered if there was something to her theory about him remaining downstairs until his strength returned being the reason that he generally got so sick afterwards.

"Bless," she said, handing him a tissue.

He sneezed again, thankful that she had found a potion that would dull the pain, and not interfere with his dailies. Normally, sneezing caused pain that took away his breath, stole his appetite and sometimes was severe enough to make him sick to his stomach.

They were sitting on the couch, looking at the pictures of he and his family. She had covered him with a blanket and made sure that he had ample tissues, tea and soup. In return, he asked her to bring down the photo albums and decided to start letting her into that part of his life. He didn't have much he could give her, but she deserved at least that much.

They were looking at a family portrait, taken two months before he was bitten.

"You look so happy," she said, musing at what a cute and bright child he was. He had a round little face and high cheekbones which were covered with freckles. His hair and eyes matched his mothers.

"I was," he whispered sadly. "But, then I was bitten. Mom and pop didn't know what to do with it. Pop locked me in a dog crate when I turned. And, they fought about it all the time. Mom wanted to put me in an orphanage, but she got the letter for Hogwarts and sent me there instead." He coughed and sniffed.

"Are you crying?" she asked, putting a hand on his leg.

"She and pop moved during my first year at Hogwarts. I never saw them again. Probably best, you know… they didn't know what to do for me. Nobody really did. Well Madame Pomfrey was so very kind, and James and Sirius after…" His voice became pinched, and he wiped obvious tears out of his eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she said, not sure what to do next. She watched him watch the page with such longing that she wanted to put the book away and break the cycle of pain. "What was her name?"

"Abigail Marie."

"Beautiful name. What about your pop?"

"David Robert."

"You miss them?" she asked, and nearly kicked herself. If she missed her parents, and it had only been a few years, of course he missed his.

"Miss mom. Pop was rough handed – to both of us. But mom… she was so soft and kind."

She rested her head on his shoulder. "I see where you get both your looks and demeanor from then."

He sniffed wetly and blew his nose.

She closed the book. "We'll look at more later. Are you tired?"

He shook his head. "It's been so long since I looked at these. So very long… but it hurts like it was yesterday. Writing home and being told that the owls couldn't find them."

"I'm sure they loved you. I can't imagine them not."

He nodded. "For years I figured it was because I was an unlovable monster. But, Lily brought up the point, one day, that maybe they just didn't know what to do. Mom was a muggle… but pop had such hatred for me – I think he was a wizard." Before Hermione could say anything he rushed on, "Hermione, don't look for him," he swallowed. "Please. If he wanted to find me – he would have by now."

She nodded and got up to put the album away. She yawned on her way back to the couch.

"Are you tired? You must be! When's the last time you slept?"

She shrugged, "On and off since Thursday."

"You have to sleep! I'll be fine. I don't want you to get sick, too."

She considered it. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I'll even cook dinner."

She cocked and eyebrow at him. "Don't strain okay?"

He smiled. "No strain. Just showing my appreciation."

She nodded and went to take a nap.


	18. Out with Friends

Hermione yawned for the umpteenth time and put her head down on the lunch table. She had slept the rest of Saturday and most of the day on Sunday. On Monday, she barely made it to work on time and, even then, she was exhausted.

She felt a gentle hand on her back and lifted her head up. "Hey, Arthur," she said. She looked at the clock, fifteen more minutes of lunch.

"Long weekend?" he asked, sitting next to her.

"Full moon," she answered. "Wasn't expecting it to take so much out of me."

Arthur paused. "Did he…"

"He was easy to care for. But, I didn't expect the amount of worry I would feel. I felt so utterly useless, and he caught a cold right after. So, I wanted to be sure that that didn't progress."

"Only a cold? Well done, Hermione," Arthur said with a smile.

"He said that too," she said with a sigh.

"No, really. Even when Molly took care of him, she would nearly kill herself with exhaustion to tend to his injuries and even then he would normally end up with the flu at least. Have you ever noticed how nobody sees him for a week or two after the moon?"

At her blank look he realized the answer was 'no'. "Remus is used to something like the flu, bronchitis, or pneumonia after the moon. A cold – even a bad one – is something of a reprieve for him." He looked at the clock, and then back at her. "Now, you on the other hand need to learn how to not ignore yourself while you're caring for him. And, in that same light, to know when to take time off."

Hermione gasped. "But -."

"But nothing… you need another day."

"I slept all day yesterday…"

"That's nothing. You've had a stressful week and then probably didn't sleep for a few days. You need to rest."

At that moment an owl landed on their table and cooed at Hermione. She grabbed the note off it's leg. She sighed. "Shoot."

"What?"

"Ron, Ginny and I made plans to go to the Lollipop Diner tonight. I totally forgot. Ginny's wondering if I'm still coming."

"Do you want to?"

"Yea, actually I do. But, I'm married. I have to take care of my husband."

"Hermione, listen to me. You're always complaining that you hate when couples don't have a life outside each other. Don't become one of those couples. For one thing, Remus would feel completely guilty if you did that. And, for another, you two will drive each other crazy if you're always together. Have a life outside of him. It makes things more interesting – and it makes you appreciate what you have even more." He looked at her oddly as she pulled a piece of parchment out of her purse. "What are you doing?"

"Asking Remus if he minds if I'm late tonight."

Hphphphphphphphphphphphp

Remus read the letter and smiled. He looked around – dirty dishes in the sink, seemingly hundreds of tissues scattered across the table, and scraps of paper with attempts at articles all over the living room. He sneezed wetly and dug a well used tissue out of his pocket. After running it briskly under his nose for a second he smiled.

The house was not fit for a woman to be in. Besides, she was obviously burning out at breakneck speed. She not only needed but deserved this time with her friends. And, he was pleased that see felt comfortable enough to ask to take it. He coughed and scribbled his reply quickly, so that she wouldn't be concerned about any hesistation.

Hphphphphphphphphphphphp

"We are so glad you came out with us," Ginny said, as they waited to be seated. The Lollipop Diner was themed to look like Munchkinland from the Wizard of Oz. It was a fun likeness and even the servers were dressed to match the theme.

"It's going to have to be an early night, I'm beat. But, I needed a night away."

Ron and Ginny exchanged curious glances.

"What?" Hermione asked. She thanked the server and started to sip her butterbeer.

"What's he like in bed?" Ginny whispered.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, nearly spitting out her butterbear.

"Well," Ron shrugged. "You're insistance on marrying him kind of took everyone by surprise. I mean… you know…."

"I don't know," Hermione answered honestly. She was about to admit that they slept separate rooms, but thought the better of it. If someone from the Ministery was listening in, it could give them incentive to call the marriage illegitimate. "But, I will say… Ginny, are you still a virgin?"

"Oh goodness no! Harry and I had a good time before –."

"OH!" Ron cut in. "No no no! I'm not listening to this!" He held his hands over his ears.

"Well what do you think we were doing during those cold nights on watch?"

"Watching!"

"Well we were watching each other do things to…"

"Stop!" Ron exclaimed. "Just stop. You're my sister."

"I'm a woman!" Ginny said, setting a glare on him that would have withered anyone other than a brother.

"Yea yea…."

The girls giggled a bit. "Well, next time you get a boyfriend, we'll trade techniques okay?" she said to Ginny.

Ginny nodded and smiled, pulling her shirt down just a bit to show her clevage.

"And put those away!" Ron exclaimed.

By the time Hermione got home, it was well after her normal bed time. Taking Arthur's talk to heart, she owled into work saying that she was staying home sick and went to bed.

Hpphphphphphphphphp

When she awoke the next day, the sun was shining through her window. It was nice to feel rested, finally, and her alarm clock stated that it was nearly nine. She didn't hear Remus up and about, and she was fairly certain her being home would surprise him, so she made sure she made as little noise as possible.

When she got downstairs, Remus was eating breakfast.

"Morning!" she said brightly, giggling as he jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Morning," he returned. "Want breakfast?" At her confused expression he continued, "The ministery sent a letter confirming that you'd be taking time off today. Anything wrong?"

She shook her head. "Just needed one more day to relax."

He nodded, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Hep-Tissh!"

"Bless. How's your cold been?"

"Annoying. But, not nearly as bad as it's been in the past," he said as he made up a plate of food.

"Okay, that's good." She thanked him for the plate and started eating.

"Any plans for today?" he asked.

"I want to start compiling the magazine. There's a con in about 3 weeks, and I thought we could go and hand out samples. You know, try to get some subscribers."

He nodded. Having never been to a con, it was a new experience. And, he was looking forward to it.

"It's kind of close to the moon, will that be okay?" she asked.

"Yea, I just may not be my normally charming self," he answered with a grin.

"Remus, even when you're not charming, you're still charming to me," she said sweetly.

He blushed and looked down at the paper, and she smiled as she finished her breakfast.


	19. Cuddling

By dinner they had figured out a more inclusive name for the magazine: "For the Love of the Night" and decided that the publication should include articles on all sorts of interspecies couples and have a Q&A for both the 'humans' and the 'creatures'. Remus also insisted on each of them writing an article, per issue, on how they dealt with an idiosyncrasy of living with the other. Hermione could see how lots of hurt feelings could come from such articles. However, she could also see how such articles would not only help them, but help other couples in similar situations.

While Remus outlined articles, Hermione brainstormed about other groups to market to. The new name resounded 'goth' to her and from the gothic umbrella she knew she could pull from some interesting subgroups. She also decided on having a section for appropriate media (book, music, movie) reviews.

Between the two of them, they finished the basic outline of the magazine. Remus promised that he would work on finishing the rest, while she was at work, so that it would be ready for the first Con.

As they sat down at dinner they chattered about their goals for the magazine, and how they would split the work. They also asked each other questions that they had, or had been asked about the other, in order to populate the first Q&A.

"I must say, I haven't felt this alive in a long time," Remus admitted. "Thank you so much, I can never repay you for this."

"You're welcome, so much" she replied. "Don't worry about repayment. It just feels good to be appreciated."

He nearly glowed with happiness. "And I do appreciate you – for your light and intelligence and kind heart." He paused and watched her blush. "I should probably tell you that more often, huh?"

"Hm?" she asked, still dizzy from the compliment.

"That I appreciate you. I do, you know… for everything."

"Not for looking through your pictures," she teased, breaking the seriousness of the conversation.

"I could have handled that better," he admitted. "I am sorry for that."

She smiled. "I'll forgive you if you'll forgive me for snooping."

"There is nothing to forgive. I would have done the same – and honestly, it wasn't the diaries or pictures of school that bothered me. You've heard about those times and those people for such a long time, I should have known you'd be curious about them."

"It was the pictures of you mom?" she asked knowingly.

"Yes. I miss her," he answered quietly.

Hermione sighed. "I understand."

Remus looked up. "Do you have pictures of your parents?"

"Of course…"

Remus thought for a moment. "What do you say about creating a memory wall in the upstairs hallway?"

"A memory wall?"

He nodded. "We'll go through our pictures and choose ones of the people we want to – or need to remember."

Hermione beamed with delight. "I love it!" she exclaimed. "Can we start after dinner?"

He smiled back and nodded. He had never made her so happy, and he wouldn't allow the momentum to be broken.

Hphphphphphphphphphp

After several hours they had pulled out all of their pictures, and separated them into piles of friends, family, places, and enemies.

"It's late," Hermione said looking at the clock. "I can't take another day off without a healer's note."

"I understand," Remus said with a yawn. "We can start again tomorrow."

"Remus?" Her voice was soft, gentle, and curious.

"Hm?" he asked with a stretch.

"Can we cuddle tonight?"

He paused, uncertain of how to answer He wanted to say yes, but… "Okay," he answered, quelling the doubts in his head. She was his wife, after all. And, she asked him not the other way around.

She smiled at him and started climbing the stairs. "Lemme get my pajama's on. I'll be in shortly."

He smiled and apprehensively started to follow her.

Hphphphphphphphphphp

Remus woke up for the fourth time that night and looked down at the beautiful blond sleeping softly in his arms. He rested his chin on the top of her head and sighed contently, not wanting to miss a moment.


	20. The Best Laid Plans

Authors note: As some of you didn't seem to realize, I posted this in 'movies', and mentioned that it's not canon. So, I use Emma Watson as my Hermione Granger. And, Emma is far more blonde than the brunette that Rowling writes about, I believe some people call it 'dirty' or 'sandy' blonde. But, blonde none the less. (Google: emma watson, hair color, and you'll see what I mean.)

Also, I don't respond well to anything emphasized in ALL CAPS. This is considered yelling. If you do not like an aspect of *my* story, you are entitled to your opinion. This does not give you the right to yell at me.

Anyway, onto the story:

When Hermione left work, she went straight to the library. Pulling up the registrations for the Cons, she bought space for the ones they had agreed upon. She also sent an email to her friend Seamus, who took over his father's printing shop a few years prior. She was hoping he could give her a decent price for their magazine – otherwise she would have to take out a loan to pay for the company. She had to admit that she had not thought of the extra costs that she would incurr.

Then she started looking up "Abigail Marie Lupin" and "David Robert Lupin". She found that David had been imprisioned for 'creulity to animals'. She snorted at the irony. "That's okay," she muttered, "I didn't want him in Remus' life anyway." She continued to search for Abigail, when she saw it.

'_Librarian, Ms. Abigail Gole-Lupin, to retire after 25 years of faithful service. A dinner for Ms. Gole-Lupin will be held at the Gemini Library at 8PM …'_ Hermione continued to read and was giddy as she realized that the party was that night. Quickly, she gathered her things, jotted a quick note for Remus and ran to catch the night bus.

Remus sighed as he looked at the note. It said that Hermione had been called in to do a priority assignment and that he was on his own for dinner. He looked at the table, which had been set and the food charmed to keep warm for her. He knew that she was going to be a little late, so he had made dinner. Suppressing the feeling of sadness that grasped him, he went back into the living room and continued to look through pictures.

Hermione paid her L30 donation at the door and walked in. She was woefully underdressed, but at least looked like she had just come from work, making it excusable at least. She looked through the sea of people who had come to wish Ms. Gole-Lupin luck in her retirement. She still wasn't sure what she was going to say, but she knew she had to try.

She took a seat and watched as people spoke on behalf of Miss Abbie – as they called her. They all spoke of her imagination and how she would help them research anything under the sun – and many things of the dark. They teased her about her love of hound dogs and how she always called those at the library her pack. They all agreed that the pack would never be the same without her.

Then Miss Abbie took her spot at the dais, and Herimione gasped. Her hair was silver and her skin frail and paper crisp, but her eyes – her eyes were Remus'

After the speeches, food was brought out and after a time the line to see Miss Abbie thinned out.

Hermione knew that she had to make her move. "Miss Abbie?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes, dear?" she asked, looking Hermione once over. "You weren't one of the students I helped," she said with the upmost certainty. "I have helped hundreds of students and I've remembered each one. But, you – what do you want dear?"

The time had come and Hermione still didn't have a speech prepared. So, she went with the straightforward approach. "I'm Remus' wife."

There was a slight flicker in her eyes, and then it was gone. "Which Remus dear? There have been several."

Hermione swallowed and lowered her voice. "Your son."

Miss Abbie shook her head. "Can't be," she stated plainly. "My son is dead."

"No… merely adopted by a place better suited to handle him." Hermione thought on that statement. She had meant Hogwarts, but she didn't imply Hogwarts. She let the thought go. Muggles didn't know enough about the finer details to be an issue.

"Come on, dear," Miss Abbie said as she lead Hermione into a back room. When they got there, they both sat down. "You're his wife you say?"

"I believe so – I mean, I'm married to Remus John Lupin, son of Abigail Marie and David Robert Lupin."

"Remus is alive?" she asked, her voice full of disbelief. "I tried for years to research Albus Dumbledore, this Hogwarts place…everything… but I couldn't find anything except some old clippings about hospitals, who used to use werewolves as lab rats back in the eighteen hundreds. I had thought, for years, that I had fallen victim to some aweful scam." Two tears glided over the crevases years of worrying about a missing child had left her with. "Does he still look like this?" she asked, digging into her purse and pulling out a picture of a much younger, more carefree Remus. He had a scar running down the side of his cheek, and those amber eyes of his were the same.

"I assure you, he's very much alive. My name is Hermione," she said, extending her hand.

Miss Abbie was at a loss for words. "I must get back to the party, my guests. But," she took a pen and piece of paper and started scribbling on it, "this is my address. Come by this Saturday around ten a.m. We shall talk, and … and you will bring me to my Remy?"

Hermione took the paper with a smile. "Yes ma'am."

Hphphphphphphphphp

When Hermione returned home it was very late. She frowned when she saw the remnants of a dinner for two on the table.

"I tried to keep it warm," a sleepy voice said from the living room.

"I'm sorry, my love. I just… I lost track of time."

Remus sneezed abruptly.

"Bless," she said, sitting down to the table.

"What… what is that…smell?" he asked, coming toward her slowly. He sneezed again.

Hermione winced. Of course, his sense of smell would pick up on his mother right away. 'Crud,' she thought. "What smell?" she asked taking a bite of the now cold food.

"Some… some strong… per-fume. Keshhtissshh!" The force of the sneeze made him stumble a bit and he dug into his pocket for his tissue.

"Oh geez. The woman sitting next to me was wearing something strong smelling. I'll go upstairs and take a quick shower."

"Then bed," he added looking at the clock.

She nodded, and took a final bite of her food. "Thanks for trying with dinner. I'm sorry it didn't work out."

He shrugged. "It happens. Will you… heh… where will you be… eh… sleepin' t-night? Kesshtissh!" He rubbed at his nose.

"Provided I can get this scent off me, I'd like to snuggle with you again. It was so nice – and warm… and…" She paused as she gathered the strength to say the words. "And, I felt very safe in your arms. It was heavenly." She quickly gave him a kiss on the lips and ran up the stairs.

He sneezed again, and then plopped into one of the kitchen chairs, dazed by both her words and actions. "I make her feel safe?" he muttered to himself. "And, she kissed me? Wow… I must be doing something right.


	21. The Violin

**Authors Note: I'm sorry for the delay, but hope the length of the chapter makes up for it. The next is also likely to be longer – so a bit more of a delay. But, I am working on it (tonight in fact). Also, in regards to your questions about Harry and the others, they will be answered and other friends will be mentioned, etc. So, please bear with me as I weave them into this. **

**Thank you for your support and for sticking with this. And, as always, please r/r!**

**And now to your regularly scheduled fic:**

But, by Saturday, Remus was still not better. His near continuous sneezing forced Hermione to sleep in her room again, and scrub her skin raw trying to get the scent off of it.

As he continued to be ill, she mentally battled with herself. Should she help him, or does helping him mean staying as far away as possible? Should she not go see his mother or bring his mother home to him? If this was an allergy to her scent, would seeing her cause him a major allergic reaction? Would it cause more harm than good? Would he divorce her for causing him harm? She swallowed hard as she remembered their vows and 'at will' marriage. She assumed he put that in there for her protection, but if bringing his mother back into his life hurt him then she could easily see him using it for his.

As it was, he had sneezed himself sore. His throat and nose were raw and his chest hurt from the force of the sneezes. His eyes were red and swollen from both tears being forced out as the sneezing increased in strength and from his severe lack of sleep.

Hermione could feel her heart breaking as she watched him from the kitchen. She yearned to sit next to him. To hold him as he sneezed, and be there for him to collapse on. She picked at one of the scabs from her last shower – she had take an exfoliator to her already raw skin and didn't realize that the cool ache she felt was from an open gash and not just from severe irritation. After that, Remus forbade her to scrub that hard and promised her they'd get through this.

"_But at what cost?" she recalled yelling at him. "I'm not worth this – you deserve so much better."_

But, he wouldn't listen to any of it.

"Herbione, ca-come here, blease." He paused, sniffling as he scrubbed at his nose and tried to will away the sneezes that lingered just inside his sinuses.

She shook her head and pulled herself further onto her chair. "I'm so sorry, Remus. I – I don't know what's doing this. Maybe I should leave…"

He sniffed hard, and shook his head. "No, Hermione… it's a cold or an al… allergy. Haressh…Isssh!"

"Bless you," she whispered, consumed with guilt.

"Id's nod you. I bromise," he said, blowing his nose harshly. "Dis isn'd the first time somethig like this has happened."

He'd been making these excuses all week. But, she couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. Or maybe it was the fear of setting up something so huge behind his back. Maybe he should have a choice about his mother…

The second Hermione took to answer was a second too long.

"All righdt," he said with a sigh. "I'll go to Saindt Mungos." He put his handkerchief back up to his face and sneezed heavily.

"What?"

"You heard be. Baybe they'll have somethig or a suggestion to stop the sneezig."

"Okay… do you want to take the floo, broom, or apparate?"

"I'll take the bus."

"You most certainly will not!"

Remus looked at her seriously. "Mione, listen. I've done dis before." He blew his nose again. "This may seem serious to you, but I assure you dis is not a time to be wo-worr-worried-Hessh! Isssh!"

Hermione bit her lip. She knew that he hated to be smothered. But, it was so easy to do. On the flip side, Remus was a grown man and had certainly lived a full life without her. Treating him like a child would do nothing but foster resentment. She nodded. "All right. I have some errands to run anyway. I'll… I'll try to be home by the time you are. Please send word if you're home before me."

He smiled kindly. "I'll be fine," he whispered. "Once I'm homb… that's the easy pardt." He sniffed and snorted, with a small cough at the end.

She sighed. "Are you sure that you don't want me to come with? I – I can, you know. It's no bother."

"I'b sure. Ridght dow, I know you wandt to. Bud, I d-don't want… you… to… f-feel, Heh-Ehsssshhh! obligadted."

"You are my husband – not an obligation," she stated seriously. His mother be damned. Her husband was sick. She couldn't just leave him to fend for himself.

Remus considered it for a moment. With a quick swipe at his nose, with the handkerchief, he stated, "I'll be fine. Thangs." He got up, put on his shoes and headed out the door, leaving Hermione standing there wondering what her next steps should be.

Ignoring the impulse to run after him, she grabbed her cloak and took the floo to the nearest safe bus terminal.

Hphphphphphphphphphphp

She got to the address and gazed at the cottage which was well kept just on the outskirts of Kensington. She looked at the polished iron and fancied herself making enough money to keep Remus in such a cottage. Goodness knows he deserved it. He deserved to be well kept and safe in a cottage that was befitting him – rather than a tumbledown cottage, which could barely sustain its own weight. She promised herself that she would give him the life he deserved – and the life that she wanted.

Before she could even knock on the door, she heard, "Come in, dear."

She opened the storm door and marvelled at the unique Victorian décor, including hundreds of books.

"My apologies for making you wait. I was detained with… well… marital matters," Hermione said, joining Mrs. Gole-Lupin at the table.

"Men do make for those issues. Does he know you're here?" she asked, pouring the tea.

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't want to get his hopes up, if you decided you did not want to be reunited."

"However did you find me dear? I have searched for Remus, for a long time. He used to so love books that I had hoped that by being a librarian, eventually he would wander into my library. And, then – then I would find my boy."

"It really was luck, and chance," Hermione answered, sniffing the tea. She was suddenly hit with the fear that this was too easy. Maybe this was a deception set up by one of Remus' many enemies from the war. She fretted about how upset he would be, should she disappear. Suddenly, this seemed like one of her worse ideas yet.

She sipped the tea, only after watching Mrs. Gole-Lupin do the same. She made a noise of delight, and sipped a bit more eagerly.

"Strawberry vanilla rose," Mrs. Gole-Lupin said. "Do you like it?"

"It's delightful!" Hermione said, putting her teacup down.

"What is he like, dear?"

Hermione smiled. "He is a good man. He is more intelligent than almost anyone who I have ever met. He loves music and to read."

"Does he still play violin?" she asked eagerly.

Hermoine shook her head, "Sadly, no."

Mrs. Gole-Lupin frowned. "Do you have a picture?"

Hermione winced. "I'm sorry. He's been… under the weather this week, and I didn't have time to properly gather things for this meeting."

"You left him while he was ill?" Mrs. Gole-Lupin asked in an accusitory tone.

"He didn't wish for me to accompany him to the doctor," Hermione said, defending herself.

"Dear, men never wish it. But, how else are you to tell what's really wrong with them? Otherwise, they'll just lie to you."

"Remus does not lie to me," she responded, matter of factly.

Mrs. Gole-Lupin smiled. "Ah, so you're recently married then?"

Hermione nodded. "Just about a month."

"Ah, that explains it. You'll learn dear." She stood and moved into the sitting room. "Would you like to see him playing violin as a child? He really was quite good. And, I don't just say that as his mother."

Hermione forced a smile. "I would love it." She watched as Mrs. Gole-Lupin put a video into her VCR. Her old hands handling it with the upmost care.

"I keep meaning to have it transferred to DVD, but I can't bear the idea of it being out of my possession. It's all I have left of those days. My husband couldn't handle the separation and went to search for Remus. I never saw him again, which is why I retained his name… and so Remus could find me if he ever felt the need to do so."

Taking her cue, Hemione said, "He does miss you. But, in his world, computers are not common place things. So, searching for a person is a bit harder. I think he figures that you wouldn't want to see him – such as he is."

Mrs. Gole-Lupin tilted her head to the side. "How do you mean?"

Hermione swallowed. This was a muggle. This would have to be handled with far more delicacy than typically necessarly. "His affliction – it lowers his immune system, makes him a bit sickly. It also makes it difficult for him to obtain a good paying job – either on the wizarding side – for there are laws that keep him from getting a good job. And, on this side- well he can't take off the time he needs."

"So you support him now, I assume."

Hermione nodded.

"However did he survive without you?" she asked sarcastically.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Good friends. And, like I said, he is immensely intelligent. He has used that to do private research for various employers, and has a decent home, on land, north of the city."

Mrs. Gole-Lupin pressed 'play' and the room was filled with the most amazing violin music. Hermione watched as a smaller, chubbier version of Remus ran his fingers up and down the fine instrument, bowing the intricate notes as delicately as a virtuoso. "Wow," she breathed.

"Then he went out after dark that night. And got bit by that dog. His life as he knew it ended that night."

Hermione nodded and put a hand on the other woman's arm. "Would you like to meet him?" she asked.

Mrs. Gole-Lupin smiled instantly, her face aglow with hope. "Dear, I was fearing you would never ask."

Hphphphphphhphphphphphphphphp

Remus came in, and saw Hermione sitting at the table, smiling mischiviously

"What are you up to?" he asked, his voice clear as a bell.

"You're better?" she asked, surprsied.

"Told you it was just an allergy. I was halfway to the road and started feeling considerably better. It must have been the dust from going through the pictures." He rubbed his hands over her still raw arms. "We have to pick up the potions to heal you – as you did for me."

She smiled and cupped his cheek in her hand. "I'll heal. Don't you worry about that."

He kissed her on the nose. "Too late. But, I'll defer the decision to you – as you did for me earlier today." He sat at the table. "Thank you for that – by the way. I know you worry. But, it feels good that you trust my judgement as well."

She smiled.

"Now, what are you up to?"

"Up to?" she answered overly innocently.

"No, Hermione. You are talking to the reigning king of mischief. You'll have to get much better at masking your smile if you are going to try to out…" He sniffed the air, then shook his head, as if he was changing his mind. "To out wit me at mischief. I can tell you are up to something. Now spill it."

She looked past him to the living room, and he followed her gaze.

His violin sat proudly on the couch.

"What? How?" he gaped at he approached it, as if it would vanish in a puff of smoke any second.

"Hello, Remy," Mrs. Gole-Lupin said, from near his book cases.

Remus looked up, and his jaw fell in shock. "Mom?"


	22. Of Moms and Men

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for your patience. It's considerably longer than the others, so I hope the length, twists and turns all make the wait worth it.**

And now back to the story…

Remus rubbed the bridge of his nose as he rested with his head in his hand. Unsure of how to respond to such a shock, he had turned around and sat down at the kitchen table without another word.

"Here," Hermione said, placing a cup of Earl Grey tea in front of him. She gently squeezed his shoulder and dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

As he felt her start to move away, he grabbed for her hand and kept it on his shoulder. She responded by pulling her chair closer to him and resitng her free hand on his leg.

His mother took a seat across from them and took a sip of the tea that Hermione had set out for her. "Remy, I know this must be a shock, but I assure you that I looked for you for a long time. I even became a librarian and stayed at the Gemini Library, near Fleet Street in the hopes that you would wander in.

He sat back non-chalnatly, his amber eyes glaring at her like stone. "And what of it?" As you can see, I have not amounted to what you or father would have wished of me. Can you accept me as I am?" His voice was steady, but Hermione could feel ihm begin to tremble.

"Of course! You're my son! I have searched for you for a long time…"

"And you found me how?" he asked, his voice thich with skeptisim.

"I thought you knew, Remy, you're wife sought me out at my retirement dinner last week." At Hermione's shocked and slightly confused expression she contiued, "It's a good wife you have there. For I'msure we never woul dhave found each other otherwise." When his stoic expression did not change, she continued a bit more hesitantly, "You are happy to see me, aren't you Remy?"

"It's Remus now, mother. I don't got by Remy anymore."

"Oh, Remus, finally! I'm so happy you came to love your name as much as I do," she squealed dreamily. She took another sip of her tea. "Lovely tea, Hermione. Wherever did you get it?"

"Corner grocer. It's by Celestial Seaonings – Vanilla Strawberry Rose."

"Sinfully delicious."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it. It's from my personal stash," Hermione said, with a grin.

He sighed and took a long drink of his tea. "Thank you," he said to Hermione. He turned back to his mother, who gazed at him expectantly. The same gold eyes that he saw in the mirror every morning were gazing back at him. "Mother, I apologize for my abruptness, but -."

"Remy – er, Remus, I understand. Hermione told me that you've been unwell, so I'm sure that you are out of sorts anyway. I mean, this would be shocking even if you were completely healthy."

He looked at Hermione as if to ask, 'Really?'. He cleared his throat. "Well, not so bad as all that. Meefly an allergy caused by dust – we've been doing some spring cleaning…"

"Pish posh. No need to make excuses for Hermione. She said that you're newly married, so I'm sure her housekeeping skills could use some sprucing up." When both Remus and Hermione glared at her, she continued with, "Besides, I understand that life changing experiences are, well, life changing."

He took a deep breath and smiled. "I know it doesn't show right now, but I am quite glad to see you again." He got up and pulled out the family picture. "How's pop?" he asked, as he handed her the photograph.

She fingered the outline of his father and smiled fondly. "He couldn't stand life without you Remy. He left mere months after you did, saying that he was going to go find you. I never heard from him again. I fancy that he received the divorce papers, and found himself a new wife and family. He was such a good man." At Remus' confused expression, she continued, "Oh, Remus, I waited for him to return – with or without you for five years. I couldn't put my life on hold anymore." She smiled sadly, and patting Remus' hand. "But," she exclaimed with renewed vigor, "you're wife is such a clever girl. Maybe she'll be able to find your father and then it can be just like old times, no?"

"Not likely, mother," Remus replied seriously. "Many things have changed since we last saw each other."

"I know!" his mother said, happily. "Hermione has kept me quite informed."

Remus looked at his wife angrily, and she shrank away from his gaze. "I'm curious as to what she told you," he growled.

Realizing that she had hit a button, his mother toned down her enthusiasm. "She told me that you don't play violin anymore. What a shame. She also said due to some odd laws, that must still be on the books from hundreds of years ago, you've had some difficulty finding a permenant job, and instead have been doing contract research – which is much more fitting for you, if you ask me. You never did like to conform."

Remus felt his stomach twist and, judging by the fact that Hermione was now squeezing his leg gently, he assumed his color was blanching as well. "Listen, mum. I apologize, but I am not feeling up to snuff… and um…"

"Lunch!" Hermione interjected. "We could do lunch tomorrow. Perhaps that will give us all enough tie to digest what has happened today and gather pictures and other memories to share tomorrow."

"Well, that sounds lovely. What do you say, Remus dear?"

He nodded, his stomach still twisting in knots. "Sounds good." He hugged his mother briefly, feeling his nose twitch as he took in her scent. "Flowers?"

"Do you like it?" she asked brightly. "It's called Golden Afternoon. I only put on a touch, as Hermione told me that you have allergies." She stroked the bridge of his nose gently and a boyish grin appeared on his face as his eeys fluttered closed.

Herimone pushed a napkin in his hand just in tie for him to whirl around and sneeze into it. "Hurchessh! Chessh! Hurschoo!" Tears streamed from his eyes and he blew his nose fully. "Heh-eh-kerchech!" He heaved heavily and felt another sneeze start to burn his sinuses.

"Well, then, I won't be wearing this tomorrow. Perhaps some soft egg nog with ginger spice?"

Remus nodded. "Nearly sounds edible," he replied stuffily as he sneezed again.

"Bless you, my son," she replied tenderly. She brushed wisps of hair out of his eyes. "I've missed you," she whispered.

She turned to Hermione and gave her a long hug. "Thank you so much for finding me. You've made an old woman very happy."

Hermione smiled. "I am glad," she retured, though she couldn't help but cast a worried glance in Remus' direction. There was a fight brewing – she could feel it. "We'l pick you up around eleven, okay? There's pub that we frequent quite often. A little ramshackle to look at, but the food is quite nice."

His mother smiled. "Tomorrow at eleven then. I'l be waiting." With that, Hermione accompanied her, through the floo system, home.

Hphphphphphphphphp

When she returned home, she could hear Remus coughing wetly in the bathroom. She banched as she realized what a shock to his system this must have been. She bounded up the stiars and knocked on the door. When he didn't asnwer she pushed it open sowly.

Remus was sitting on the edge of the tub, the heels of his pams pressing into his eyes. It was obvious that he was crying.

"Rem," she whispered worriedly. She wasn't which she wanted to do more: hug him or disappear into oblivion.

He looked at her. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was tear streaked. "Not right now, 'mione, okay?"

"Remus, please…"

"Pleased what?" he yelled. "You're sorry? Thten why did you do it? You fanciful bloody child. You want me to show my feelings? To tell you what I'm thinking? Well, _I'm_ sorry. I can't. I don't even know what I'm thinking or feeling or what I'm going to do. So I can't very well share it."

Herione bit her bottom lip. "Okay," Remus. As you wish."

As she started to leave he called to her. "Just answer me this: why is it everytime I let you get to know me a little better, you use the information to make me feel even more vunerable than I did before?"

Two fat tears traced their way over her cheeks. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry," she whispered before turning and leaving him alone.

Hphphphphphphphphp

Remus sat on the top stair and cried silently. Hermione had been sobbing downstairs for nearly two hours. Everytie he thought she was stating to calm down, her tears began to run anew and her sobs would become rough again.

At first he thought it was what James had called 'foolish womanly emotions'. But, when she did not stop crying he forced himself to think on what he had said. Certainly the question wasn't unreasonable. And, it was better than how he had yelled at her after she had been caught going through his pictures.

The fear he had felt after her disappearance swelled in hiim again. He forced himself to remember that although she was an adult, she was not as experienced or jaded as he was. He recalled her holding ihm close and comforting him as he became emotional over the separation with his mother. He swallowed thickly. If only she had asked him if he wanted to her to do this. He would have let her. And then he wouldn't have felt so vunerable when his mother knew all about his harships.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. Was that it? Was that what had upset him so much – the fact that his mother knew about his inability to maintain a decent job? The fact that he was ill? Was the feeling of vunerability because _he_ had not been given the opportuntity to speak for himself on those matters?

He nodded as he believed so.

He listened; the crying downstairs had ceased. He hoped Hermione had cried herself to sleep and he could carry her to bed. The could discuss things calmly in the morning.

But, no sooner had he arrived at the mouth of the stairs than he heard, "The papers are on the counter. This was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but obviously it's necessary, since even my best intentions for you are," she swallowed thickly, "poisonous."

He walked slowly over to the counter and saw divorce papers with her signature on them. Panic rose in his throat. Damn, but she knew how to make a tough situation worse. The air was thick with her scent, her tears, and her passion. He felt a spark that he had not felt since Sirius. He readjusted his shirt, untucking it so that it covered his front. "Destroy them, Hermione," he growled.

"What?" she asked, brusing away silent tears that had been trailing down her cheeks.

"I cannot, since you drew them up. _You_ must do it, for I will not sign."

"But, the stipulation of our marriage said that if either one hurt the other -."

He gapsed through the pain in his heart. "I never menat for that to apply to me," he said kindly, as he made his way torward her.

"I did," she countered. "Remus, you are such a good man. If – even with my best intetions – I hurt you, the I am not worthy of your…" she paused. He had not yet said that he loved her. And, she was wiser thatn to assume such a thing, "…of you."

He digested that as he took a seat next to her. "Hermione, even the best of relationships have their arguments and hurts."

"Did you and Sirus?"

"Did we ever!" he answered remembering the often loud, sometimes near violent fights they would have. "But that doesn't mean that we didn't love each other, or want to be together. On the contrary, it showed how loyal we were to each other – to let our feelings and thoughts be known to one another – even if we knew it would piss the other person off."

"You don't think I'm committed to us?" she whimpered.

"I didn't say that!" he said forcefully. Then calmer, he continued, "I've figured it out – what hurt me so much."

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Remus," she said, her voice husky.

As he looked at her swollen lips and soft eyes, he had the nearly unrestrainable urge to run his fingers through her hair.

Forcing himself to focus on the topic at hand, he continued. "I know. And you're loyalty and commitment to my happiness is commendable. But, all I ask is that you let me help you make decisions about my life. We should be doing this together. If you had said that you wanted to do this, I wouldn't have stopped you. And then, a day like today would have been more joyus."

"I didn't want to get your hopes up. I got lucky – really lucky with this. I didn't mean to ruin your reunion."

"I understand. And, we could have talked about that." He pulled her close and kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you for finding my mother for me. You didn't ruin anything."

He held her close until her breathing returned to normal, even though his heart was racing and he wanted nothing more than to start nibbling her neck… her ear…

When Hermione had calmed enough, she kissed him lightly on the lips. "Thank you." She got up and went to the papers on the counter. "Are you sure about this?" she asked as she drew her wand.

"I am mor sure of this than I was of marrying you." It was a comment that used to go back and forth between Lily and James, and Remus always fancied it. But, now, he realized how hollow it sounded in his own life.

Hermione nodded. 'I'll take what I can get,' she thought. After she obliverated the documents she sat down next to him again. "Are you going to go tomorrow?"

He nodded. "And, I'd like It if you joined me."

She smiled and felt her heart swell with pride. "I'd love to. You're mom seems like a really nice woman."

He nodded. "I wish I could remember more of her. But, maybe the pictures and such will help." He leaned down and kissing Hermione, passionately, on the lips.

She returned his passion, her hands wrapping around his back and her body pressing against his.

He broke the kiss and started to nibble on her neck. "It feels so nice to have you by my side, facing my future with me," he said between nibbles.

She gasped in pleasure. "Of course! I – oh…." She nearly melted into his arms. Freeing her neck, she nibbled behind his ear. "I would follow you anywhere," she whispered between nibbles and Remus' own gasps. "I love you."

She paused, stunned. There it was. The feeling that she had admitted only to herself. And, now, he knew.

With a quick growl and a push, she was on her back, with him straddling her, still nibbling her neck. He made a sound of pleasure, but did not verbally respond to her admission.

She wondered if he had heard her.

Suddenly he stopped, a mischevious grin spread over his face. "We should collect pictures," he said.

She looked at him looking down on her and realized that perhaps this was the response. She panted in anticipation, as she realized he was giving her the choice of if they would continue or not. As much as she wanted to continue, her rational mind took over. "We should. But, this… this should continue later."

He nodded and climbed off of her. "Come on, there are more boxes in the attic."

Hphphphphphphphp

The next day, Remus awoke with a screaming headache.

"Are you sure you don't want me to reschedule? You're literally green around the edges."

He shook his head and two dangerously wet coughs ripped rom his chest. "It's natural." He sighed wearily as he took a sip of the chamomile tea that she put in frong of him.

"Stress?" she asked, playing with his hair.

He massaged his stomach lightly as he tried to determine whether the tea agreed with him or not. "No," he said, gruffly. "The moon is this week."

'Already?' she thought. She breathed a small sigh of relief for not signing them up for that particular Con. On the flip side, that meant the first Con was only four weeks away, and there was still so much to be done.

He coughed again and she came out of her thoughts. "You're no well, love. Let me…" she paused and blushed. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I mean, are you sure you're feeling up to going? Needless to say, I'm worried."

He coughed, and leaned into her, groaning slightly. "It's just another migraine. I'll survive."

She sighed and picked up the basket of memorabilia. She watched as he painstakingly got up.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her gently on the lips. "I truly appreciate your concern. But, this is not the time to worry."

Hphphphphphphphphphp

No matter how enthralled the two of them were with the Leaky Caldron, it was quite obvious that his mother was not.

"Is this the best yo can do for him?" she asked, when Remus stepped away.

"Pardon?"

"No offense, dear, but…" She sighed, and continued. "I expected a better ketp home. But, I was willing to over look that. Today, you bring me," she looked around, "here. And, you let him leave the house when he is positively ill."

"He wished to see you, despite his current situation."

"Commendable at best. But, wholey impractical. I mean, who is the alpha in your home, dear: him or you?"

"We're a partnership."

"Don't give me that poppycock. Who's the alpha?"

Hermione thought about that. She had figured that there were two alphas in their home. But, it was ovious that would ben an acceptable answer either.

"I suppose it's him then," she replied, her eyes shining with anger. Besides, she remembered Harry once telling her that he had been the alpha in the Mauraders.

His mother shook her head and sighed wearily. "Such a disappointment. And, I had such high hopes for you, being that you found me and all." She leaned in closer. "Let me tell you a little secret about your husband, dear: he is not a strong man. Determined, yes. Down right stubbor? Certainly. But, mentally and emotionally he is weak – same as his father."

Hermione could no longer bite her tongue. "Excuse me, but it's obvious that you don't know what you're talking about. He is strong mentally, as well as emotionally."

"Now you listen to me, dear," his mother interrupted, her voice dangerously low, "He is my son. I raised him and I can tell you he is just like his father – a good hearted man who will do anything to make you happy. But, he needs to be told what to do – and how. If you don't control him, he will never love you."

Hermione felt her breath get stolen away.

Having had her say, his mother sat up straight – and not a moment too soon. She smiled as Remus came back to the table. "Welcome back," I trust you're all right?" she asked brightly.

He sat down, and Hermione could instantly tell he was far from all right.

"As per usual," he said, with a smile.

Hermione wondered how she could have missed all of his fronts for so long. For years, she had thought that things didn't bother him and that his ailment caused about a week of pain and a lowered immune system. She felt like she had failed him at the deepest level, and promised herself that she would be more attentive in the future.

As if reading her thoughts, Remus reached over and took her hand tightly.

She felt the cold sweatiness of his pam and was instantly alerted to how ill he was really feeling. She squeezed back and tired to figure out a way to cut the lunch short.

But, there were pictures and memories to be shared. Remus, despite his illness, was having a lovely time, and so she was glad they had come. Besides, it was obvious the old bat had no idea who her son was.

"So, dinner Wednesday? My treat. You two have formal ewar, yest? Of course you do. Does seven work for you?" his mother asked.

Sorry, mother. I – uh – I won't be myself this week," Remus answered with a blush.

His mother's eyes darkened. "Oh, _that_ still happens to you, hm? Never outgrew your… furry little problem?"

"No… it doesn't go away."

"Well, I'm sure there is a procedure…"

"No," he answered, seriously.

"Oh," she clipped at him. "Well," she sniffed lightly. "Perhaps, Saturday then?"

"I'm sure I'll be ill – the … issue… tends to lower my immune system, making me more suseptable to illness. So, even if I avoid catching cold, going out will certainly make me ill."

"Well, perhaps if your wife did her job, and you weren't sick beforehand -." She stopped short when she saw the look in Remus' eyes.

"My wife does an excellent job of caring for me. She is the best person to come into my life in nearly twenty years. You cannot blame her for my affliction, nor for any of its side affects. For, I assure you, she is the reason I am well as often as I am."

"I apologize then," she replied in a contrite tone. "But, Remus, be serious. I could never blame her for your affliction. I doubt she was even born then. I mean truly, however did you meet?"

Remus was suddenly struck by the memory of her coddling him, while being condescending to his father. Soon after he remembered how he and Hermione had met, and how much he admired her potential back then. He was certain she would not approve of the truth.

"We volunteer for the same organization. Remus was the manager for several projects I was assigned to."

"Well, well, I'm impressed, dear. Sleeping with the boss. How manipulative of you."

"That is none of your business," Hermione hissed.

At the same time, Remus slapped his hand on the table. "Mother, that is inappropriate! You are my mother, but Hermione is my wife. I have known her longer than I have known you. If you insist on continuing to speak to her in such a manner, I will disappear from your life again – this time by my choice – not yours."

"Excuse me?" his mother said, her voice rising.

"I know that you sent me away the second that another opportunity opened to you."

"I would have kept you otherwise!"

"You could have stayed in contact with me. You could have tried. Now, you are attacking the person who made it possible for us to be together again. How _dare_ you!"

His mother sobered up instantly. "My apologies, dear. Perhaps there is something magical in my drink. It's probably best we part company for now. How will I contact you?"

"I'll send you an owl," Hermione replied, getting up and helping Remus do the same.

She made a sound of disgust. "Filty things. Whatever would I need that for?"

"Nevermind, do you have email?"

"Of course!"

Hermione gave her a small piece of paper with her email on it. "Let us know when you want to get together again," she said tersely.


	23. Flu

Remus sneezed wetly, nearly levitating off the bed as he did. "'m sorry, 'mione. I ju-just," he sneezed again, this time folding himself upright as he did. He blew his nose with a mighty honk and coughed. He flopped back onto the pillows with a sigh. "So, sorry," he said, snuggling into her, holding her close to him as he did.

She flipped herself over so that her head was snuggled into his chest. "I do wish you'd stop doing that."

He took a deep breath and tried to release his arm from under her, but to no avail. "Hekizt!" he stifled the sneeze and groaned. "'m sorry. I – I'll go sleep down stairs." He untucked himself and started to get out of bed.

"No, what?" Hermione asked, leaning onto his side of the bed, and pulling him back by the shoulder. She got up onto her knees and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, gently kissing the back of his fever heated neck. "Remus, please come back to bed."

"I – I can't stop sneezing. It, it's too much. And you need to sleep… you have work in the morning – otherwise you can't take off after the… the moon – Hesxxessshhh!" He wheezed as he gasped and coughed wetly.

"Blesses," she said, running her fingers through his sweat soaked hair. "Remus, it's okay. I wasn't talking about you. Please come back to bed. You'll catch your death of chill and then I won't know what to do with you. Please. Just lay back down. I'll even tuck you in all nice again."

In the two days after 'the incident' as they had taken to calling it, Remus' cold had developed into a terrible flu. Hermione had fretted about the implications and complications of his tranformation, but he insisted that he'd been through worse.

Originially, Remus had wanted her to stay in her own room, but Hermione wouldn't hear of it. She loved him. She had admitted it to herself and to him. It didn't matter that he didn't return the sentiment, she would continue to treat him the way that came naturally and from the heart. There was no turning back now. Sh

He flopped back onto the pillows and shut his eyes tightly.

"Dizzy?" she asked gently, as she got out of bed and tucked him in snuggly.

He coughed lightly and groaned. "Why I can't just die? Most werewolves are dead by my age… why I can't I just die?"

Knowing that he wasn't taken to meladramatics, but that he was running a high fever – dangerously high for normal humans, but only barely tolerable because of his affliction – she sat on the bed next to him. "There must be more plans for you," she said, dipping the washcloth in a bowl of water and dabbing the water on his forehead and cheeks.

He turned away from her as he sneezed freely.

She cringed as she watched the spray drench her pillow. She knew she'd have to do a disinfecting charm on her side of the bed before she got back in.

He coughed. "I don't want to do more. I've lived, fought in two wars, and lost everyone I've ever loved. I don't want to live like this anymore." Tears were forming in his eyes… and in hers.

She knew that he was sick and it was probably the fever talking, but he'd just admitted to not loving her. And, she didn't think that living with her was that terrible. She was here, wasn't she? She shook the thoughts out of her head. No, he was probably talking about his pack: James, Lily, Peter, Sirius, and Harry. He was probably just tired of the illnesses and not being able to get a decent job and the sanctions against him. It wasn't her, she told herself. It couldn't be.

"I know, Rem. If I could do something – anything – to make it better, rest assured I would. I'd do anything to make your pain stop."

He reached up, his cold clammy hand stroking her cheek. "I know you would 'mione. And it means so much to me." He brought the hand down to cough into it. "I wish I could be a better husband for you – the kind you deserve."

"What kind is that?" she asked, as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"The kind that can afford to keep you – or at least assist you with the bills. The kind that isn't sick all the time, so you can enjoy times out with. The kind you can leave for a few days and not be concerned about. The kind that loves you the way you love him. That kind."

The last sentence did it, the tears started to fall. And, though she tried not to let him, Remus noticed.

He seemed to try to think of what he had said wrong. But, it was clear that his brain was still fuzzy with fever. "Hermione, what is it?" he asked sitting up, trying to push his way out of the fog of the fever.

"Nothing," she said, hurridly brushing away the tears. "I'm fine." She got up abruptly. "I'll get you more water," she said, making her way out the door, and closing it behind her.

Had he not been a werewolf, Remus never would have heard it. But, he did – the stifled sob and the statement, "You stupid fool," whispered in a quivering breath, just before Hermione descended the stairs.

Unsure if she was talking about him or her, he struggled to get up again only to have his vision fade to darkness as he blacked out and flopped back onto the pillows.

Hermione sat at the table crying. She knew she was being irrational – possibly even hormonal. But, she loved him and whether she liked it or not she wanted him to love her too.

After an hour she decided a few hours of sleep were better than none. She crept up the stairs and disinfected the sheets. She forced herself to pull him into her arms, even though his touch upon her skin caused her shocks of physical pain. "Stop doing this to yourself," she scolded herself.

Planting a kiss on his arm, she let herself drift off to sleep.


	24. A Trip to St Mungos

If Hermione had thought that the initial transformation was bad, nothing could have prepared her for the recovery of a sick wolf.

Just as she had the month prior, she set him up downstairs before his transformation. But, this time she wrapped him in warm blankets – despite his protests – and made him drink water until his pallor told him his stomach was going to rebel. Then, at dusk, she went back upstairs, promising him she would be back as soon as the sun came up.

What she didn't tell him was in order to get the day off, she promised to switch shifts with Douglas, who had changed his schedule to cover nights. While she had plenty of Paid Time Off, the Ministry had been making it difficult for her to take it – if it was around the full moon.

"How's life with the mongral?" Douglas asked, as they passed at the apparation point.

'Better than it would ever be with you,' she thought. But, instead she smiled sweetly and said, "Very nice. Thank you for asking."

He grabbed her arm. "I would have given you everything," he said in a pleading tone. The love that she remembered shone in his eyes.

"Remus already does," she whispered. She wasn't sure if it was a lie. But, she was certain it needed to be said.

At that moment, Arthur walked in. "What are you doing here?" he asked her, giving Douglas a dirty look.

"I needed to work last night in order to take off today," she said, pulling her arm away from Douglas.

"How is he?" he asked, stepping between her and Douglas and turning his back on him.

"Not well at all. He came down with the flu a few days back.."

"Does he know you're here?"

She shook her head. "No, and I know I have to get back soon."

Arthur nodded and looked over his shoulder. Noticing that Douglas was gone he added. "Remus is so lucky to have you."

"Just wish he loved me," she whispered, the hurt evident in her voice.

"What do you mean? I mean, it takes love to grow."

"Yea," she said quietly. "I know he loves me. But, I wish he felt – I don't know … more…"

He put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. Every relationship has their peaks and valleys. He had to love you to marry you. And, we already know you love him. So, just let it grow."

She nodded, understanding that they really couldn't talk. They were outside the Ministry, but they were still too close for it to be safe.

"I gotta go," she whispered, squeezing his hand quickly before walking away.

As promised, she was back at home, showered and ready to care for him the second the sun came up. She descended the stairs, balancing all the things she figured that would be needed.

Her heart lurched when she saw Remus, already transformed, lying in a puddle.

She gasped and ran to his side. "Rem, I'm sorry," she begged, but it was no use. Whether from pain, illness or exhaustion, he was sound asleep. "Oh, Remus, it's okay," she said with a sniffle. "I'm here now." Ever so gently, she set forth to cleaning his body, healing his broken bones and patching up his torn skin. She moved him onto a blanket and wrapped him snuggly.

She placed a kiss on his forehead and moaned as she felt the heat radiating off of him. His fever wasn't high – it was dangerous. She toyed with the idea of taking him to St. Mungos. 'He said he would tell me when he needed it,' she thought, looking down at his too pale face. 'But, what if he isn't able to?' She sniffed again and compromised with herself: if he didn't awake within the next four hours – for any reason at all – she would take him to St. Mungos. Then ever so carefully, she levitated him and brought him to bed.

Hphphphphphphp

Four hours came and went in a blink of an eye. Initally, she had wanted to watch him. But, staying awake all night had taken a toll on her and she drifted off to sleep in a matter of minutes. When she awoke it was nearly noon, and Remus had shown no sign of awaking or having been awake.

She sighed and tried to wake him, first with cool cloths, then ice, and finally by talking to him. But, his breathing remained slow and deep.

So worried she couldn't help herself, she apparated the both of them to St. Mungos.

Hphphphphphphphp

"What do you mean you can't help him?" she yelled at the receptionist. "He is my husband. I will pay for his care."

"He's not awake dear. We can't just _help_ a werewolf. They have to be awake to fill out the paperwork."

"I can do that," Hermione insisted.

"No, it's against the rules. Now, if he awakens and can even tell you how to fill it out – then you bring him back here and we'll see what we can do."

"And what if he doesn't awaken?" Hermione nearly yelled. Remus did not stir.

The receptionist shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say dear. The apparation point is that way," she said pointing through a door.

"Bitch," Hermione whispered as she took Remus back home.


	25. Trading Places

**Authors Note: This chapter is gritty and bloody. But, it does include information important to the story. In short, it's not gory to be gory.**

Remus woke up with a wet sniffle and a gasp. All he knew was searing pain. He pawed the bed beside him for Hermione. She was not there, but the covers were wet and sticky. He opened his eyes and saw red. For a moment he thought he'd injured his eyes again, but when he looked away, items were their normal color. He sniffed the air, but couldn't discertain any scent through his congestion.

His heart rose up in his through and he started to retch as he feared what he had done to her. Visions of him tearing her apart, or beating her bloody, or worse ravaged his mind and he wished he could die in that very instant.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps outside the door and prayed for it to be Arthur or someone who had missed and found Hermione – someone who was coming to put him out of his misery before the dementors did.

He heard a sigh of relief and then footsteps running towards him. 'Maybe she's still alive. Maybe they can save her…,' he thought as he started to lose consciousness again.

"Oh no you don't! I need you to be awake, dammit."

It was Hermione.

"'mione?" he croaked.

"Hush yourself, Remus. I need you awake to take medicine."

His stomach twisted. "No…"

"Remus, please. You've been asleep for days and…" She sneezed wetly and blew her nose.

He forced his eyes open again. Hermione's hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and she was in her pajamas, which were stained with dried blood. Her nose was pink and her eyes red and puffy.

"Just close your eyes and take your medicine," she said, handing over a vial of blue sparkling potion. "It'll stop the internal bleeding," she explained.

"You're sick?" he asked.

A wet sneeze answered the question for him. "Don't worry. It's only a cold." A harsh, wet cough ripped from her chest.

"More than a cold… flu…"

"Nah," she said, understating how bad she felt. "Just a cold." She handed him the next vial. "This will fix the internal damage and remove any blood misplaced or leaking blood."

He drank it quickly. His insides tickled madly, as if his whole body was going to sneeze out the offensive objects that the potions were healing.

"And you're two normal…ones…" She handed the vials over quickly and sneezed twice, nearly getting bent in half each time.

"Bless," he croaked, reaching up for her.

She shrunk away from his touch. "No… you can't get sick again. You can't…"

He smiled. "'mione, I can take it. I'll risk it."

She handed him a glass of water. "I won't." She felt dizzy and feverish. She wanted to pass out, but knew she couldn't worry him like that.

"The blood?" he asked after he had drained the glass.

"Yours. You've been bleeding … from everywhere. It hasn't stopped for days. There were times that I was certain that I had lost you. But, then… you'd start breathing again." She sniffed wetly and hastily brushed tears from her eyes.

She sat back in the chair that had become her life since St. Mungos had turned them away.

"Was afraid it was yours."

"Nah," she replied with a shrug. She suppressed a sneeze and a cough.

"Why didn't you take me to…" he was about to say St. Mungos, but realized that he had always told her not to.

"St. Mungos?" I did. "They turned you away… and I was too busy caring for you to get the potions that I needed."

"I would have been okay."

"You say that now. But, you almost slipped away a few times. Besides, I didn't want you to wake up and think I had abandoned you."

He thought about that. It would have been the first thing he thought. And, then he probably would have let his insecurities take over and lash out at her afterwards. She was learning. But, this wasn't a lesson he wanted to teach her.

"I'm awake now. And, feeling remarkably better." He cleared his throat and realized that he wasn't feeling _that_ much better. "Go get the medicines you need."

She grabbed a tissue and sneezed violently, twice. "I can't go out there now. I'm certain I'm still contagious."

"But, you need medicines." Fatigue was starting to take over him. "Contact Arthur, he'll bring them."

"He's away on business," she said, collapsing backwards into her chair. "I've taken off the past two days – though I did have to go into work to _prove_ my illness."

Remus' eyes shot back open. "What day is it?"

"Wednesday," she said, as she fell to sleep.

He thought about that. He had been asleep for nearly a week. She had been caring for him, while sick. Who cared for her? He felt his breath be forced out of his stomach. He did! He cared! 'Dammit!' he thought. 'I have to show it.'

He looked over at Hermione, who was sound asleep in the chair. He whistled for his owl and scripted a note to the local apothecary.

Within hours he had Pepper-Up and Flu-B-Gone, enough for at least another three illnesses. He was lucky to be friends with the apothecary, who ran a tab for him.

He cleaned up the blood, something that Hermione didn't have the where-with-all to do – a testament of how sick she was. He woke her gently and made her drink the Flu-B-Gone, followed with a glass of cool water.

She barely work up enough to take it, and he was certain she wouldn't remember it later, but at least she would be well in the morning.


	26. The First Act of Love

Remus found it difficult to sleep without worrying about the feverish young lady at his bedside. He knew, rationally, that she would be fine, if not completely cured in the morning. But, he had felt her forehead prior to waking her and was deeply disturbed by the fever raging within her.

He had never considered what they would do when both of them were ill. He was grateful for every bit of care she provided for him, and looked forward to doing the same for her. But, he had never considered what staying up to care for him and working during the day would do to her. It was a wonder that she hadn't come down sick before now.

Then another thought struck him. What if she had? What if he had been hiding it from him? His heart constricted the air out of his chest. No, she wouldn't have, he forced himself to believe. The soft warmth of sleep almost overtook him when he forced his eyes open. Hermione couldn't stay like that, curled up in a chair. He had long since covered her with a blanket, but that wasn't enough.

He considered bringing her into her room, but carrying her that far would cause damage to him, in his current state. 'She is worth it,' he thought to himself, trying to gather the strength to make it. Then he thought about it. When he was sick, she didn't send him away. On the contrary, she held him close. Didn't he love her enough to do the same for her? He paused. Love… He looked at her, curled up in the chair, and realized that somehow, in the past few months he had started to fall for her. Yes, on many levels he did love her. But, was he ready to tell her? Certainly not. And, besides, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

He recalled the way Lily used to be when she got sick. She didn't want anyone near her, or holding her. Perhaps Hermione was the same way. In which case, taking her to bed with him would only cause her annoyance, and possibly embarrassment. However, if she wasn't like Lily, placing her far away from him could do just as much damage, maybe more.

He decided to take her to bed with him and hold her as close as he could without smothering her or damaging him. He was still unwell, he could feel the weight of disease pressing on him. But, his illness meant nothing, so long as she was ill. No, he would not be selfish while she needed him. He was selfish enough normally.

Carefully and lovingly he gathered her into his arms and laid her on the bed, covering her snuggly with the blankets before climbing in himself.

He looked at the sick beauty in the bed next to him. "I'm so sorry, 'mione," he whispered. "I'll take good care of you from now on. I promise. I know you can't hear me, but I don't take these things lightly. I don't know why I thought you were infallible, but I did you a disservice. I don't know how I will make this up to you, but I will be here when you awake, and every day thereafter as long as you'll have me." He kissed her gently on the forehead and noticed her fever had started to come down. "I love you, Hermione Granger-Lupin," he whispered before falling to sleep beside her.


	27. Sharing the Load

When Hermione awoke she felt better… so much better in fact that she went to work. Her guilt had been working its way through the pit of her stomach for days. The combination of missing work, putting the magazine on hold – even if just for a week- and the perceived failure with Remus made her want to run…far and fast.

As she dressed she looked at her sleeping husband and wondered how he was able to heal her. And, if he had such talents, why he couldn't use them on himself? She set a note on his bedside table and other on the kitchen table. She made him breakfast and charmed it to self heat. She rememberd how sick he had been the night before, and decided to keep the breakfast for herself. Instead, she made him tea and toast with some soup, and left it on his bedside table with his daily potions.

She paused as she walked through the door… another guilty thought entering her head… how could she leave a sick husband to fend for himself? She shook her head, knowing that she would have to prove, to the Ministry, that she could handle both her job and Remus. She also knew, all too well, that now that she had married a werewolf, the Ministry would use any excuse possible and necessary to fire her.

With the fear of teminiation fueling her every step, she hustled to work, getting there a half an hour ahead of time and starting to work straight away.

After a complete and successfully accomplishing the work that her team had been continuing in her absence she headed for home. She felt alive again, like she could take on the world. Now that the project was done and was on it's way to the Ministry publication office, she could talk to Remus about it… something that she could not wait to do.

She rushed home with a spring in her step, trying to formulate how to present the discussion to him. She thought about their newest project and how Remus could help… but she wasn't sure if 1. she could bring it up to him without insulting him or 2. she could bring it up to him without risking her job…the Ministry had a long reach, and she still was not convinced that she was completely safe from them – even as far out as the cottage… maybe especially…

rhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrh

Remus woke up to a cool bed. Immediately, he thought that she had abandoned him. Mentally he berated himself – that was the kind of thinking that caused her to not get medicine when she needed it. His own insecurities threatened their relationship at the most basic level.

He turned over and saw the tea and toast. He sat up and felt the congestion in his head repressurized, causing a harsh wet sneeze to explode out of him. He barely had time to catch it, and blindly grasped for his handkerchief and blew his nose, several times. He cough huskily and winced – not only from the pain in his chest, but from the sound it made.

He moved the tray onto his lap and saw it – a card and a four leaf clover from Hermione.

Tears glistened in his eyes and he felt his nose begin to run.

_My Dearest Remus,_

_Thank you for your kindness. I know not how you were able to cure my flu – yes, love you were right, it was a flu – but I could not feel more alive this morning. Against my better judgement, I have decided to honor your gift by going to work. I do not have to explain the darker side of the Ministry to you, and I do not want to give them any reason to terminate my employment. _

_Please eat. There is more food downstairs, should you be well enough to get there. If not, please contact either myself or Arthur – and one of us will assist you during our lunch break. _

_Thank you, my love. I look forward to seeing you tonight. _

_Love, _

_Your Wife_

Remus had started to hold the handkerchief to his nose when it began to drip. Tears were falling. Love.. she had mentioned it several times.

He swallowed thickly.

Love oozed out of the letter, palpable and beautiful. What had he done to deserve that? And, how could he let her feel that same sort of love?

A sneeze ripped from his chest, clearing both his chest and head instantly. Thankful he had his handkerchief to his face, he set to cleaning himself up. When he had finished he could smell it – cinnamon, clove, and eucalyptus. Smiling he quickly drank the tea.

He flopped back onto the pillows. The tea had been on the hot side of warm, and was flavored with lemon and honey. His body craved the nurishment and he felt his body start to open up. Glad Hermione wasn't there to see it- he spent the next 10 minutes in the theros of a sneezing fit that was loud, wet, and messy.

Panicked he looked at his useless handkercheif. But, then he saw it – a small stack on the tray, which had been hastily set aside when he felt the starts of the fit.

He picked up the top one – it wasn't one of his. It was softer, gentler, and eucalyptus scented. She was so good to him.

He didn't have much time to think of it before the sneezing started again. When it finally ended he snuggled back into the covers – able to breath better, but thoroughly exhausted.

When he awoke again, his head was more clear, but his chest and back was sore. He couldn't tell if he felt better, but he knew he didn't feel worse. He swung his legs off of the bed and tried to stand. His fever had come down well enough for him to function. First, a shower. Then – anything humanly possible to show Hermione how he felt about her.

Refreshed, clean, but dizzy, Remus descended the stairs slowly. She was always running, always going – she deserved to come home to a clean home and a fresh cooked meal. He sat down at the kitchen table for a rest… and saw it: a card with a rose.

Normally allergic to roses, but surprised that he wasn't feeling the itchy eyes or the sneezing, he reached out and touched it. Silk. She really had thought of everything.

He opened the card.

_Remus,_

_If you are reading this, that means you are feeling well enough to get around the house. That brings me great joy. I wish I could stay with you all the time and take care of you as you deserve. But, in my failing, I hope you can forgive me. _

_Take this rose as symbol of my affections, and know that I am with you – always – even when I am at work. _

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione_

_PS – I don't know why I'm so mushy lately. Perhaps it's the sickness or a side effect of the potion. Please let me know if it makes you uncomfortable and I will stop. I do not wish to make you feel uncomfortable, only loved, accepted, and wanted, at the most basic levels. Remember, I am lucky to have you._

He sighed. She had been saying that a lot – how lucky she was to have him. Could there be a way that she didn't understand how lucky he was to have her? The reality of the statement dawned on him. It was a heart wrenching reality that had never crossed his mind.

He thought about the incident with his mother and shook his head. He knew what he saw and wished he didn't become so ill right afterwards. He was certain that his mother had said things to her that he didn't know about, and had been too sick to ask about.

He looked in the cupboards and the fridge… plenty of food. That was something he didn't know if he would ever get used to. He closed the door quickly, and sneezed to the side. Dizziness swept over him, but he brushed it away. Hermione needed someone to take care of her – even if she didn't know it yet.

When Hermione got home, there was smoke coming from the chimney. She came in the door was was instantly surrounded by the smell of roasted lamb and vegetables.

Remus was reading on the couch. He smiled when she walked in. "Welcome home," he said. "Forgive me if I don't get off the couch," he coughed harshly.

"You cooked dinner," she said, her voice full of a disbelief that broke his heart.

He smield. "I am quite capable."

"I know, but…wow… Remus this is so nice!"

He smiled at her, and invited her to sit next to him. "I've decided that since you work so hard, and take such good care of me, the least I can do is work harder to get our magazine off the ground and take care of the chores – including cooking and errands."

"But,"

It's been falling on you for too long, Hermione. I can't live with myself if we continue this way. I am not a selfish person, at heart. But, for some reason I've been taking a disadvantage of you in a terrible way – and to you detriment. Please forgive me." He kissed her on the cheek.

She smiled broadly. "That sounds delightful." Wrapping her arms around him, and unable to stop herself, she kissed him passionately on the lips."

Knowing he was sick and should pull away, Remus was tempted to push his young bride away from him. But, the electricity that coursed between them could not be denied, so he pulled her closer and kissed back.


	28. Making it Work Part 1

Hermione huffed as she moved another stack of files across the room. Files were moving magically above her head, but it wasn't fast enough. Somewhere in the mountain of ancient paperwork was a five page booklet which apparently held the spell that her boss was looking for.

She hissed as she felt another paper cut form on her hand. She couldn't understand how she kept cutting herself; the paper was so old it was nearly disintegrating. She stretched out her neck and started looking through the new stack.

At first she had thought that she was being given a chance to prove her worth – an advancement opportunity. But, three days later she realized that this was the way they were retaliating against her for marrying Remus. They were trying to push her out. 'Well they are not going to win, dammit!' she thought determinately.

As she scanned the files she noticed things like botched cures for werewolf-ism, and cringed. Who would use poison to cure a werewolf? Bella donna and night shade? She sighed in disgust as she saw the results – fourteen dead werewolves. Wouldn't three have sufficed? The thought of the cure being death tickled at the back of her mind, but she brushed it away. She couldn't imagine someone trying to kill Remus, just because he happened to have an unfortunate affliction. But, then – that is why she had to marry him in the first place.

Her mind drifted to Harry. He always did say that Remus should settle down with someone special. She wondered if he had been hinting to her. She knew that Harry had watched over their wedding, and wished that he could have been there in body as well as spirit.

She brushed tears off her face. Harry didn't deserve to die the way he did. He survived the war, defeated the bad guy and got the girl. No, she couldn't think about that now. She remembered how Remus had cried when Harry was brought up. Maybe this was something she could help him through – maybe grieving was something they could do together.

Hphphphphphp

Remus felt sick. It was nearly suppertime and he had not heard from Hermione all day. Generally, she sent him an owl on her lunch, either telling him when she expected to be home or checking in on him. But, today – nothing. He was about to owl Arthur when the door flew open.

He drew his wand, but realized who it was before he cast the spell. Hermione had dirt smudged on her face and reeked of fresh blood. Instinctually he started to growl. Someone had hurt his mate, and he would not stand by and allow her to hide it from him.

She took a few steps backwards. "Remus?" she asked tentatively when he started to growl. "Rem, it's me… who do you think I am right now?"

"Who did it to you Hermie?" he asked, ignoring her questions.

"What?" she asked, opening her hands to him.

"You're dirty and bleeding. You were attacked. From now on you floo home. And that's that."

She sighed. "More file room work. Not an attack. And, you've said it at least thirty times – you're not comfortable with me using the floo system."

He shook his head. "I'll get passed it. It's a stupid fear anyway…"

She walked up to him and stared him squarely in the eye. "_Not_ stupid," she insisted. "Honed over years of fear and torment is NEVER stupid."

She watched his eyes turn a threatening shade of yellow and his nose start to twitch. It was the blood.

"I'm going to take a shower, and then we can eat and you can tell me about the magazine. You have enough articles for publication?"

"At least two months worth."

"Great. I'll be right back down."

Hphphphphp

"This is great Remus," Hermione said, as she read through his articles. She had thought of a few herself and had written the rough copies, but he was ready to start publishing. "Now to find the time to – ."

"I'll do it," he interjected.

"Do what?"

"Take it to Seamus' father. I'll negotiate and work with him. I mean – it's the least I can do."

Hermione nodded and reached for her purse. "Here," she said handing him a Gringotts card with a number on it.

He looked at the card and back to her curiously.

"It's our door number."

"Our…"

"Our door number," she repeated. "Right after we got married, I started putting money aside – for us. It's not much, but it should pay for the first publication of the magazine."

Remus rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "Hermione… how can I… repay this?"

"We're married. It's what married couples do. No repayment necessary."

A knot twisted in his stomach. He had to find a way to give back to her. Keeping the house clean and cooking meals couldn't possibly be enough. There had to be something more.

He smiled. "Thank you."


	29. The Con

Hermione took a deep breath and reveled in the glory of being at a Con, again. She was a little put off by some of the mascot type of outfits that people were wearing – not being able to see the actual _eyes_ of the people talking to her was a bit off-putting. But, it was not her first Con and she was very excited to bring Remus into a world that was closer to what she had experienced as a 'muggle'.

Remus smiled at Hermione. She had dressed much more seductively than he had ever seen her do so before. And, yet, she barely showed any skin. Her long black skirt clung just perfectly in all the right places. Her chocolate brown shirt was form-fitting and low cut, with sparkly beads adorning the neckline. Her necklace and earrings looked like the inner workings of a 19th century clock. Even her make-up was dark brown, neutral.

He sighed happily as he looked at the young beauty beside him. She hadn't notice that he was watching, and she nervously fidgeted with the magazines.

He stayed her hand and pulled her a little closer to him.

She quickly frowned in response, and he bristled and started to pull back. Suddenly, he felt her hand on his neck, his cheek. He looked at her cautiously.

"What do you need?" she asked. He found her look of concern heartbreaking. "Are you feeling okay?"

He nodded, and lowered his eyes. He looked at his wedding ring. What kind of husband was he if every time he tried to be affectionate she thought he was sick? Was that what he had made it? Affection equaled need for assistance? He thought on the last few months and frowned. It was true. In all except ten cases, that he could recall, he was affectionate to get her attention – generally because he was becoming ill. He closed his eyes and mentally berated himself. How could he have let her be bound to such a terrible husband.

"Remus?" her kind voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "What is it?"

"I just…" he looked around, knowing that they had only traveled because she could afford it. What right had he to tell her anything?

"Just what?" she prompted. She looked around and sniffed the air, subtly. "It's the incense, isn't it? The scent… it's probably giving you a migraine, or making your nose itchy at least. I warned you about that…would you like to go back to the room?"

He ignored her entire statement. "Stop fidgeting. We know we put out a good product. Yeah?"

She smiled. "Thanks to you."

He smiled in return. He had been so excited when the first box of magazines came. His joy nearly tripled when he saw the joy it brought to Hermione. They had their first truly passionate kiss that night, and he smiled each time he thought of it…

"_I love you, Remus!" she had exclaimed, jumping into his arms. She seemed to catch onto what she said a moment too late, but didn't retract the statement. _

Now, nearly a month later, he wanted to kick himself for not returning the sentiment. They had been married nearly six months and he had not ever told her that he loved her. At least not when she could hear.

"_Hermione," he had returned. "Sirius was my mate."_

_Her expression turned immediately stormy. "I know, Remus," she had said. "It's not like I expect you to love me." She looked at the box of magazines on the kitchen table. "But, you sure do a good job of liking me a whole lot," she added with a smile._

She hadn't said that she loved him since.

"You deserve it. And, so much more. And, I will give it to you…"

She kissed him on the cheek. "Don't think on it. But, you'll let me know if the scents get to be too much for you, yeah?"

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Dawn?" a University aged, female pussycat came up to the table.

Hermione smiled. "Hello, Purrina," she greeted, with a smile. "How have you been?"

"How have _I_ been? How have _you_ been! Honestly, you disappeared for so long that we thought you forgot about us."

"Never."

Purrina looked over the magazine. "A magazine about werewolves, eh? Well it's catchy at least, but I really thought you would go more – seductress of the night – and do something more vampire driven. Speaking of which… get it… witch?" She paused for affect, but when she saw that nobody was laughing, continued on. "Anyway, are you going to the coven meeting tonight?"

"Not likely. It's really not my thing anymore."

"Oh? All grown up? Too good for us now?" Purrina asked, hautily.

"Hardly just busy."

"Hello. My name is Remus. I'm her husband."

Purrina sized him up and then looked at Hermione. "Ah, making babies I see. Well enjoy that." She stalked away.

"Um?" Remus looked at Hermione, uncertain of what to ask about first.

"Oookay," Hermione said. "I guess I should have warned you about that. On the Con circuit I told everyone my name was Dawn – Dawn of the Night to be exact. I would wear fangs and dress gothic style and belonged to a group of people who claimed to be witches, but were really just into pretending about magic. I did it to see how many wizards were masquerading as muggles on the circuit."

"What did you find?" Remus asked, amused.

"A few very humored wizards and a lot of really frelled up muggles."

"We can go tonight if you'd like. It sounds like it would be interesting."

"No," she said, forcing a smile. "It's not that I don't want to go with you – or share it with you – or anything like that. I just don't want to continue with that part of my life."

"I can respect that," he said, leaning forward to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Um, excuse me?" another female voice interrupted. "Um, can you tell me about your magazine? It looks like something my husband and I can use."

Hermione was frozen in place for a second, so Remus picked up the conversation. "Why yes, it's a magazine for interspecies couples…"


	30. The Con II

Hermione sighed and crossed her arms. "I know I've already said this, but I'll say it again! It's not that I don't want _you_ to go to the coven meeting, it's that _I _don't want to go. Damn it Remus, if you want to go so badly – then you go!" She turned her back on him and took a deep breath. She could not understand why he was being such a pest about this.

They had a wonderful day. Plenty of people came up to them about their magazine and raved about the premise. They only sold about fifty copies, but the Con was still young. There was a play that she was desperate to see – it had gotten great reviews in America and supposedly the music was rockin'! She wanted nothing more than to take him, and then maybe to the Furry-Ball afterwards. She never knew what kind of music they would play, or when Remus would get tired.

"I want to know what you life was before me. Hermione, look at me…"

She turned around abruptly, but forced herself to let him speak.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just… I want to know _you_. Who _you_ are."

"You know who I am. The coven, it's who I used to be."

"Hermione," Remus said, suddenly sounding very weary. He made his way over to the bed and sat down heavily.

"Remus? Are you all right?" she asked, her eyes softening.

He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees. "I'm fine. Merely misunderstood."

"What do you mean? I try very hard to understand you…"

"Yes, but inevitably you don't understand why or how I want to understand you."

"I don't understand," she said, taking a seat next to him.

He sighed again and rubbed his hands through his hair. "I know." He looked at her and turned to face her. "Hermione when I first met you, you were a student. A cunning witch with the most advanced magic that I'd ever seen for that age. Then I saw you in and out of Grimmauld Place, but we were all so focused on our own roles for helping H-Harry." He took a quivering breath before continuing. "Then He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated, and you helped care for me during that one summer, which was great – but I didn't get to know much about you, you know? Then you went to University and got a job, and even though we kept in touch and the Weasley's all told me what was going on in your life, I didn't really _know you_. And, now we're married. And all you've done is care for me and get to know me. You brought my mom back into my life and read my old diaries."

He saw her bristle, and put his hand on her arm. "I'm not mad about those things any more. It was how you got to know me – which was fine. But, I have nothing to know you by. Hermione, I don't even know your favorite book, or what kind of music you like. I mean, geez, the first time I heard your middle name was during our wedding." He sighed sadly. "I'm a failure as a husband."

"You're not," she insisted. "Remus, you are so good to me. How could you think you're a failure?" She felt her resolve give. "Do you want to go to the coven meeting?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I asked first."

"And, you're making it about me again. You're bending to what I want."

Hermione folded her arms and stood up. "Well what do you want me to do?" she snapped. "Do you want to get to know who I was, or who I am? If it's who I was, then we'll go to the coven meeting. If it's who I am, let's go see the play tonight. It's called Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson and focuses on America's seventh president. I heard the music is fantastic."

He smiled. "Then we'll do that. But, I want to see you go all vampire on me one night."

She chuckled to herself. "I'll see what I can do. Come on. The play starts in an hour and I want to make sure there are still tickets."


	31. Dating

Hermione smiled as she took Remus' arm. She was sleepy and chilly, but the play was fantastic and it gave her time to think about their earlier conversation.

During the play there was a song about 'love' being a metaphor. The characters were saying that they felt sick when the other person was around – explaining how the fever was a symptom of how they burned for each other, etcetera. Maybe there was a solution to their problem of Remus' inability to voice any positive feelings.

She rested her head on his shoulder and felt his body heat warm her slowly. Before she could stop herself, she kissed his shoulder and drank in his scent: musky with a bit of herbal sensation. A mix of his deodorant and his daily medications, she assumed.

She moved a step closer to him as he put his arm around her back. "Sleepy?" he asked gently.

She nodded slowly.

"Well, don't worry. We're just about at our room."

She nodded. "Are you generally this warm?" she asked, kissing his shoulder again.

"Yes. But, generally, you are too. So, you don't notice nearly as much."

She mumbled tiredly. "I'm sorry, Remus," she said as she slumped against the wall. He fumbled with the key a bit before sliding it into the lock and ushering her into the room.

"Get ready for bed," he said, acting as if he had not heard her. "I'll meet you there."

She nodded and got ready for bed. Remus got in right after her, and made certain that the door was locked, windows closed, and that she was securely tucked in before wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. "Now, what was it you were saying about being sorry?"

"I'm just so… I don't know."

"What? Tired? Hermione you don't have to apologize for that. It's been a long day."

"I don't know. I just feel like you deserve a wife who will enjoy the nightlife with you. And, you're right, I jip'ed you by marrying you so quickly."

Remus thought for a moment. "When did I say that I was jip'ed? And what makes you think I'd want to enjoy the night life?"

She shook her head and buried it in his chest. He held her close and rubbed his hand up and down her back. Only after he felt wet through his night shirt did he realize she was crying. "Hermie, what is it? Why did you think these things?"

She sniffed wetly and tried to turn away from him. "It's nothing. I must be hormonal or something. Just ignore it."

"No… I want answers. Even if you wouldn't normally mean it, this means the thoughts are in your head somewhere. And I'd rather hash these out now than wait until there is a problem."

She nestled back into him, and stared at his chest. "Earlier, you listed all the ways you knew me, and I jip'ed you of the dating process. Even if we'd dated for a week, you would have had a better idea if you wanted this relationship. Instead, I basically forced it on you, trapping you with me."

"Hermione, you listen to me. Although the courtship relationship is certainly the sweetest part of a relationship, it doesn't mean that I have been trapped needlessly with you. You saved my life. And, you have brought me more joy than I thought I would have again, in my old age."

"I didn't mean to steal the courtship from you Remus. And I'm sorry I've pushed you so hard and likely made you feel quite uncomfortable in the way of stating that you love me."

He started to speak, but she continued on.

"So, I figured maybe we could use the 'Love is Not Metaphor' song. Maybe if you say that I make you sick. Or if you say that you have a fever for me. Or something it'll be easier for you. If you have the desire to say it at all."

He tried to speak again, but she cut him off again.

"If it's even crossed your mind. See? I'm just a young git. I'm sorry."

"Okay. You truly are over thinking this. My ability versus my want to state love – they are not the same."

"I know… you've mated before," she cut in.

"So, perhaps that 'sick in love' thing. It could work."

Her stomach flopped. 'Could it be? On some level, could he love me?' she thought hopefully.

"My other thought, is perhaps we could treat each other like we're dating. That way, we can have the courtship, which is what I think we both crave." He smiled and jostled her a little.

"And what then? If it doesn't work? If you find I'm just a stupid, willful, little girl?"

He chuckled a little. "You think too much. I already know I like you an awful lot. And we already know we make a good marriage. So, now we get to see if there may be a little spark in there as well, yeah?"

She smiled. 'Love was too much to hope for,' she sighed to herself. "It's not blood," she whispered in quiet acceptance.

'It's a metaphor for love,' he thought with a smile.

The next day was nearly better than the first, on the Con floor. Apparently, the people who had bought the magazine the day before spoke well of it. Both furries who lived the werewolf within, married those who lived the werewolf within, and actual werewolves. It was quite obvious which was which – the true werewolves spent time actually trying to discover which of the two was the werewolf. Only once did a scared looking young lady wander by and request a copy.

Hermione thought she looked like someone who married a werewolf she barely knew and was rather worst for the wear for it. But, she didn't want to say anything. She knew she had gotten lucky with Remus. And, she wanted to find as many ways as she could to make hi love her half as much as she was beginning to fall for him.


	32. The Coven

That night, Hermione looked in the closet. Her eyes moved over her delicately made, hand-sewn, lace trimmed coven dress. Attached to the dress was a small pouch, which she knew included a hand beaded necklace, made by a Ravenclaw that she had gone to Hogwarts with – Cindy.

Cindy made it for her at a time when she was particularly unsure of herself, afraid of the future and how she would make it there. She made it from blue and white seed beads, which looked like sapphire and pearls, and she pulled it together in less than fifteen hours. At first, Hermione wore it whenever she felt out of place, or needed to know someone was there. But, after University, she no longer felt that way. So, instead, she wore it when she embraced the goth side.

The pouch also included her professionally made vampire fangs, long pearl drop earrings, baby powder white foundation, black liquid eye liner, black with silver glitter mascara, wine red nail polish, dried fake blood, and an assortment of black, blue, green, and blood red lipsticks.

She took a deep breath and looked at the outfit. She had brought her black patent-leather, platform, lace-up boots – shrunk down, so that Remus wouldn't see.

"Remus?" she called over her shoulder.

He was watching the t.v., still amazed at how he could not interact with it. 'A book in motion' is how she had explained it to him.

"Hm?"

"The coven is going to have another meeting tonight. Since, we've got to leave tomorrow – do you want to go?"

She heard the bed shift as Remus sat up. "Are you sure? You seemed quite against it the other night."

She took another breath. "It makes me uncomfortable… "

"Then we're not going to do it. Pick something else," he said, matter-of-factly, without taking his eyes off the t.v.

"I don't want you to judge me," she added quietly, as she grabbed the hanger with the goth outfit.

She heard the bed shift again as Remus got off the bed. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting a kiss on her head. "Did I just hear you say that you don't want me to judge you?" He felt her bristle in his arms, and felt his chest tighten in anticipation.

"Yeah," she whispered.

He was whisked away to the first time he took the chance to tell the other Marauders about his affliction. James and Sirius tried to understand, they really did. But, Peter never treated him the same again. The worst part of it all was that right after he told them, he transformed. And then came down with pneumonia.

Lily, of all people, was the one who had come to see him during his illness. She would sneak into the infirmary to feed him soup and oatmeal. He told her about his affliction, even though he suspected that James already had. They discussed everything, and she worked with him through the depressed fear that he wallowed in, due to the assumption that he had lost his closest friends.

For a time afterwards it seemed that he had been right. Neither James, Sirius, or Peter spoke to him, hung out with him, or even looked at him. But, Lily – she had always been there. She was his rock. She always greeted him with that warm smile and those caring eyes.

Then Lily decided not to go to University. Peter was already estranged from the group, but James and Sirius berated her for her decision. It didn't matter that people were dying and that they were all being sent on missions every week. She wanted to help fight the war, and to go to University, she would have to go to a muggle one. Worse yet, she would have to turn her back on her friends, and act like the war wasn't important to her. He recalled her crying on his shoulder, begging him not to judge her for her choice.

He could think of nothing better than telling Hermione the same thing that he had told Lily. "Sweetheart, you have been so accepting of everything I am and everything that I was. I could never judge you on choices you've made to bring you to this point in your life. Just as you have never judged me for choices I've made in mine."

True to Lily's memory, Hermione's answer shadowed hers. "Remus, so many of your choices were made for you, how could I do anything but accept you for who and what you are? But, me… I made these choices on my own. How can you accept me for them?"

When Lily had asked him a very similar question, he had answered, "Because you're my friend. And, I love you." It seemed to be exactly the right thing to say, and Lily had hugged him as she sobbed and thanked him for being the only friend she could rely on.

Unfortunately, he knew that the same answer wasn't applicable here. Luckily, Remus had what he liked to call carriage wit: when he replayed a conversation in his head, he would change his answers to what he should have said.

"Sweetheart, I embrace your past and look forward sharing your future with you. It will be an adventure for both of us."

She smiled and relaxed in his arms. She couldn't have expected a more perfect response than that. "Okay then…" She turned to face him. "Do you own anything black?"

"Own? Yes. Have with me? Well, I could do a glimmer."

"Could you hold it? For several hours, I mean?"

He thought for a moment. "Hermione, do you remember how you found me… that first day when you moved in…I was asleep on the couch… naked."

She wrinkled her forehead in confusion. "You were clothed," she said, with a shake of her head.

"But, naked. I always wear a glimmer. My face has been torn apart, by more than just my disease. Very infrequently do I show anyone my actual face. I think the Weasleys were the only people who ever really saw it – multiple times… in my adult age, I mean. I even hid it from Sirius…and Harry."

"I'm your wife."

"And, you're beautiful. And, you deserve at least a somewhat attractive husband. I can't walk around looking like I've been chopped up and rebuilt. I'd look like a monster."

Hermione remembered that day and the deep gashes that ran across his face. She hadn't even considered a daily glimmer. In fact, she hadn't thought on it at all. There were too many other things to keep in mind. But, even when she thought back on it, he hadn't looked _that _awful. 'Just another thing to work on together,' she thought to herself.

"So, the answer is yes, then?" she asked.

He nodded.

"Okay. So, I'll just slip into these and we'll go tonight. Do you have an alias you could use? You're supposed to use your 'true name' not your 'given name'. Mine is Dawn of the Night."

He thought for a moment. "How about 'Luminos'?"

She shook her head. "No. If there are real wizards and witches there, it'll give us away. In my time there, it's mainly been good muggles using this as a way to bond with nature and find like minded individuals. But, there have been some real witches and wizards there – and they haven't all be on the up and up. Some were even recruiters for ..." she watched him cringe, "Tom Riddle."

"Thank you," he said, when she used the Dark Lord's birth name rather than his self given name."

"How about Remus?"

"What?"

"Well it is rooted in history," he said with a coy smile.

"I love it," she said. "But, I'd really rather youchose another."

"Romulus?"

She giggled. "Good enough for me!" She kissed him tenderly, on the lips. "Now, let me get this on and we'll get going."

Hphphphphphphphphphphphp


	33. The Ritual

_Authors Note: Here are the words to 'Love as Metaphor' from Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson.  
__.com/watch?v=c4oUTKwTCR8_

_It's a great soundtrack, and can be purchased here:  
__.com/Bloody-Andrew-Jackson/dp/B003Y01JO4___

The other songs (in fact almost EVERY other song can be heard here: .com/bloodybloodyandrewjackson

Remus looked at himself in the mirror. "Wow…I look …" _handsome_. He wanted to say it, but he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

The merchant area was closing, but Hermione batted her pretty eyes and promised to pay in cash, and the merchant opened right back up. She paid for an outfit, paid for it, and dragged him back to their room so quickly, he wondered why he had come with her to begin with.

The pants were black linen with satin lining. They were well made and left room in the stomach for what Remus mentally referred to as his 'extra padding'. He had been thin once, and he always thought for as much as he was sick, he should be much more thin that he was, but he could never get rid of that last bit of paunch.

The shirt was black – he thought – but when he turned just right in the light it turned a deep shade of blue. It was a proper button up, with a delicate cravat, which made him feel more elegant that he had in years. He didn't know how she did it, but it all fit him perfectly, and complimented him very well.

"How do I look?" he asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

"Remus!" Hermione gasped. Her eyes lit up with joy and she ran her hands over his arms. "You look so handsome. I'll have to watch out – someone may try to take you away from me!"

"Never," he said, without humor.

"You do yourself an injustice. I better watch myself. Everyone –man and woman – is certainly going to fall in love with you. Before I know it, you'll leave me for someone else…" She winked at him, but realized a second too late that the flattery was taken wrong.

"I'm not going to leave you," he stated, seriously.

"You could – it's in the …" Her words died on her lips, as he glared at her.

"Hermione, I don't need the vows tossed in my face whenever you feel insecure. If you don't want me to go, just say so. I trust you." He thought for a moment and took a deep breath. "Let's stay home. I shouldn't have pushed you to go. This is my doing."

"No, Remus…" Hermione bowed her head. "I'm sorry, I was teasing. I was trying to flatter you, not put down me."

"Any time you think I could just leave you for another, you are putting yourself down."

"Remus, honestly, you never know. This was so rushed, I mean I…" She stopped herself. He knew she loved him. He had grown tired of hearing it, that much was apparent. He didn't share those feelings, yet. She knew he might never. "I know you don't love me, yet. And that's okay. But, you never know who or when you'll find that person who makes you tingly and happy to be alive again. And, I just want you to know that if you do find that person, I will happily support you."

His heart thudded in his chest in an odd mixture of love, acceptance and anxiety. The fact that she was preparing herself for him to eventually leave her – just walk away like she meant nothing to him broke his heart. "You mean more to me than you know," he admitted. "You are smart, funny, and so pretty. I am lucky to have you, and I hope I make your life worth living."

She smiled. "You certainly make it easier."

He sighed, but forced a smile that showed in his eyes and on his lips. He had hoped she would say that she loved him again. He adored hearing it. He was even feeling like it was time for him to say it. But, he didn't want to lead her on and have her believe he felt more than he did. And, he wanted to feel more.

Thinking on the conversation from the night before she smiled brightly at him. "I want to bathe in your metaphorical blood."

He snickered. "This fever isn't real, it represents how I feel."

"My pain transformed into art," the said simultaneously.

They both smiled warmly. It wasn't the conventional way of expressing love, but they both got the message.

Remus' nose started to itch as soon as they walked in the room.

The room had been 'wallpapered' with black garbage bags, pulled tight over the walls. The only light was provided by candles, placed around the room. Although he didn't see her put them in, he saw that Hermione was wearing fangs. He smiled and sniffed lightly.

The two women who were running the circle had everyone introduce themselves. Many looked at Remus, but not with the wanting eyes that Hermione had teased about. Instead it seemed that _she_ was the one they wanted, and several people tried to intimate him by staring him down.

He didn't recognize anyone, but he wasn't paying much attention either. He subtly dug into his pocket and cursed himself for not putting a handkerchief in there. Which of the many scents in the room was aggravating his allergies with immaterial. The fact was he was going to have to sneeze, and it was going to be loud, messy, and wet.

He vaguely heard one of the women say that they were making an herbal gift to the God and Goddess, and wondered what the herbs being used were.

A touch on his arm pulled him out of his own thoughts. Hermione was looking at him with that look of concern that already started to twist his heart. He knuckled at his nose, but smiled lightly. He could tell she wanted to leave. But, he shook his head. This night was going to be about her.

The first herbs they burned were chamomile and lavender, which made the room smell nice, but caused him to sniff liquidly. Then they burned sage and cinnamon, and it was all he could do not to fall over when the sneeze finally struck. "Ackestccchhhhhssshhhewww!" Far more wet than it was loud, he was able to stifle it into the crook of his elbow.

He sniffed wetly and blinked tears out of his eyes. He was aware of Hermione's hand on his arm and on the small of his back, but the only voice he heard was the head woman's say, "The cleansing is good for your body kind sir." Yet, no other help or pardon came.

"And finally," the head woman stated, "aconite, to ward away all that would seek to harm us." As she slowly burned the herb, Hermione started to pull Remus out of the room.

"I'm sorry. These herbs are really bothering his allergies. I'd best just take him back to the room."

"Heh-eh…Ketshwuffa! Hepatchoo!" The sneezes snapped his head forward, and he allowed himself to be lead from the room.

"Aconite, of all the stupid…" she muttered as they got back to the room. "I'm so sorry, Remus."

"Her…mione…dizzy…" Remus breathed as another sneeze rocked him so hard he needed to lean on the wall to keep righted.

"I know.. . I'm sorry. Come on, let's get out of these clothes, and then get you into a shower." She poured him through the door, and another sneeze knocked him off balance sending him crashing, shoulder first, into the wall beside him. He slide down in and laughed manically. "And you thought I'd find someone. Who else would put up with this crap?"

"Remus, you're talking nonsense, come on." She knelt beside him and started to unbutton his shirt.

Suddenly he rolled his head onto her chest and took a deep breath. She waited to feel tears soak through her top, but they did not come. "Rem?" she whispered.

He did not answer.

'Crap!' she thought. Quickly, she undressed him and levitated him into the bathroom. She bathed the sleeping too deeply man, and bundled him afterwards. Afraid that he was reacting to her, she too stripped and showered.

His breathing was shallow at best, and she considered calling the medi-witches, but where would they take him? He couldn't answer for himself at St. Mungos…

"Come on, Remus. Stay with me… I know you grow sick of hearing it, and are annoyed that I can't find a more appropriate thing to tell you, but I love you deeper and deeper each day. Don't leave me just yet. Please."


	34. Home Again

Remus groaned as he roused himself. He had a splitting headache and was certain that he was being tied down. He opened his eyes slowly, as he remembered the ritual to cast out evil beasts. Had he been found out?

Much to his surprise, he had been moved to his and Hermione's room and was laying, covered on the bed. The 'tied down' sensation, he realized, was the hug that a still sleeping Hermione had him in.

Her head rested comfortably on his chest, and he was loathe to wake her. He rested his head back again, and tried to remember how he got back to the room. He clearly remembered his allergies acting up as the dried herbs were being burned. And the aconite… but then nothing. He sincerely hoped that she didn't have to do anything that the Ministry would have to clean up.

A soft moan roused him from his thoughts. "Hey…" Hermione whispered, obviously still sleepy. "Glad you're awake. Thought I lost you…"

"What happened?" He scrubbed at his nose, which tickled madly.

She handed him a handkerchief. "I forgot one of these," she replied simply.

The pungent smell of blood crept into his senses. "Blood?" he asked absent-mindedly. In a flash, he saw an angry red line on the underside of Hermione's forearm. With lightning reflexes, he grabbed her arm and held it steady. "What's this?" he asked, angrily.

"Nothing… I just got angry last night, and into a bit of a cat fight."

"What?" he exclaimed. He most decidedly did not remember that.

"Remus, you got so sick from the aconite that you passed out. Your breathing was irregular, even after … well after." She felt awkward for a moment, afraid to tell him that she had stripped him, bathed him, redressed him, and put him to bed.

"After?" he prodded.

"You were so sick, Remus. I'm sorry… and I just… I couldn't just leave you in the clothes that had the smoke of poison on them…"

He smiled. He had long since realized that he was no longer in the clothes from the night before, and he was starting to understand how he had changed. "And this?" he asked, still holding onto her arm.

She sighed. "I went back to the group to tell them the danger of burning random herbs, and that you had an allergic reaction to it. They were so indifferent, that I just couldn't stop myself."

"You didn't hex her," he pleaded.

"But, I hit her… the scratch came because she saw it coming and tried to stop my arm."

Remus reached for his wand and tapped it against the scratch. In a second it healed right up.

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

Hastily, he switched out his wand for the handkerchief. "Huh-Wuffa!"

"Bless," she cooed. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have left you. I just felt so worthless – so useless… and I knew I couldn't call St. Mungos." Hermione jumped up, as if she had not meant to admit those things. "I'll go pack up the exhibit."

"I can help," he said, pushing himself up. His head pounded painfully, but he couldn't leave her to pack up on her own. Especially not when their had been problems after he was incapacitated. If someone hurt his Hermione, they would not be able escape with a mere slap in the face.

"Remus, rest. I assure you, if I am approached, I can take care of myself."

His head pounded with every move. He winced at the light that streamed through the window. He had no idea how he would stomach the bright lights in the exhibit hall, but he had to. Hermione had put up with too much for him. He had to protect her.

She looked like she was going to fight him, but instead started to get dressed. "Okay. Take a shower, or whatever. I'll go downstairs and grab some food."

At his slightly odd look, she waved at him. "Go, go. I'll bring up food."

He smiled as he stumbled towards the bathroom.

"Do you need help?" she asked, nearly clasping her hands over her mouth.

"Nah, I'm good." He snuffled wetly.

"Take a hot shower. Maybe it'll help you detox the rest of the way." She made her way towards the door. "I'm sorry, Remus," she said with tears in her eyes.

He paused and leaned against the jam of the bathroom door. "Why?"

"I tried to get you out of there as soon as possible."

"Sweetie, the fact that I am not only alive, but walking, talking and lucid today shows that you did exactly what had to be done. I'm grateful," he added, with a nod of his head.

"I don't know what to say," she admitted. "I just… I feel like I should do… more…"

"You should," he said, a half grin playing on his lips. "Go get us breakfast."

She laughed as she walked out the door.

The shower had done more than just loosen things up, as he had hoped. It ebbed away his headache and settled his stomach. Unfortunately, it did loosen up his sinuses, causing him to sneeze nearly nonstop from about midway through the shower.

He coughed miserably as he felt his throat become scratchy with another impending sneeze.

Finally, he heard Hermione knock on the door. He sneezed wetly and held the now useless handkerchief up to his face as he opened the door, lest he sneeze on her.

Two more sneezes that nearly bent him in half, and made his steps falter and he was ready to sit down on the bed to enjoy breakfast.

"I see the shower relaxed your sinuses."

"Don'd rebind me," he replied, stuffily.

"How's your headache?" she asked, handing him a glass of water.

"Everythig feels find. But, I cand't stop… heh… sdeezind…" He quickly turned away from the meal. "Huh-Wuffa! Wuffah! Huh-Tesssshhhew!" He blew his nose wetly and coughed.

"Bless," she said gently. "I've already paid for the room. We have three hours to get out of here. What say you about resting while I pack up the last of the merchandise, and then we apparate out of here."

Bloodshot and tearing eyes looked at her over the soggy handkerchief.

"I know you want to help, but I really think it's best for you to stay up here."

"I udderstand. You don'd wand be to bake a spedical of byself."

"That's not it at all. I don't want you to be embarrassed, show weakness, or do anything that would make you not want to come to the next Con."

Another harsh sneeze cleared out his nose and set him off on a wet gurgling blow. Taking a quick deep breath through his nose, he shook his head. "I assure you, that the only thing that I can which would make me feel weak or foolish would be to stay up here, knowing that you could be in harms way down there.

Hermione smiled brightly. "Okay," she agreed, and let the subject drop.

Hermione paced the kitchen, trying to let the worry that she had felt for him ebb off of her. It wasn't.

Remus had agreed to take a nap. She could tell that he was still feeling unwell, even though he tried valiantly to convince her otherwise.

Packing up had given her plenty of opportunities to brush against him. He was not running a fever. But, he was not well.

After he went to take his nap, and she had done the finances from the weekend, a thought hit her. She wondered if the aconite had been planted by the Ministry as a ploy to kill Remus. But, she shook the thought out of her head. There was no guarantee that he would be there. Maybe werewolves in general? The thought did not help ease her anxiety.

His snoring ceased abruptly, and she waited for the general warning that that he had awoke – a sneeze or cough. Instead, a few seconds slipped by and he started to snore again.

She exhaled and grabbed a can of soup. She needed food, even if she didn't feel like eating it.

She looked at the weekend's financials. They had almost broken even. She wanted to pay him so badly it hurt. He couldn't keep living the way he was – feeling like he was useless and unable to contribute. But, if he ever found out that she was paying him out of their debts… no – she knew that it would only make the situation worse.

She had just finished the soup when she heard him sneeze. It was light and airy, which was good. It meant that the aconite had worked its way out of his system. She cleared her dish and went to go check on him. Instead, he came bounding down the stairs.

"Feeling better?" she asked, as she washed the dish.

"Much. Thank you." He hugged her from behind and kissed her on the cheek.

She turned to face him and found herself at a complete loss for words. He looked healthy and happy. His caring brown eyes had lost the feverish red rings, and his skin held a healthy peach hue. She had never seen him look so handsome and well rested. She could not deny her attraction.

Before she could calm herself she kissed him. But, it wasn't her general kiss on the cheek. It was urgent, needy, and passionate. Their lips parted and their tongues embraced just as their arms were doing. Before she knew what was happening, he lifted her onto the counter and moved between her open knees. She willingly moved her body towards him, and wrapped her legs around him.

She felt him grow warm and push his hips into hers.

All of her feelings started exploding out of her. Properness be damned. He didn't have to love her, but she wanted to meld with him more than she ever had before.

Condoms.

The thought brought her passions to a screeching halt. She felt Remus continue to frisk her passionately, and her body said 'oh Gods YES', but she knew he was not her first. And she knew he was not hers. Crap.

"Do you have condoms?" she whispered, between gasps.

He stopped abruptly. "No… where did you think this was going?"

Frozen in place, Hermione could think of nothing else to say but the truth. "Well, that would be obvious."

"Passion does not equal sex. I would have thought you had figured that out by now."

"I have but, I…"

"We have other enjoyable things that we can do. No pressure. I promise," he interrupted.

"God Dammit, Remus!" she exploded. "I want to have sex with you!"

He took a step back and looked down. "Oh," he said, simply.

"Remus, I am not a little girl anymore, and you are not my teacher. You are handsome and wonderful, and I am a good catch dammit!"

A flush crept its way into Remus' cheeks. "Hermione, I thought we discussed this… I want to court you. Date, and take the time necessary to fall in love with you – the way you love me. Sex is so special. I don't want to rush this."

She set her jaw stubbornly. He was right. She was being too needy, too impulsive. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Another idea dawned on him. "Hermione, are you horny?"

"Just for you, it seems," she said, hopping off the counter. She sighed and found herself unable to look at him. "I think I need to take a walk."

Scared of what would happen if he let her berate herself for feeling what she so naturally felt. And, ashamed that he old fashioned ways had made her feel awkward about those feelings, he wanted to rectify things. There had to be a middle ground, and it was his job to find it.

"Hermione kiss me," he demanded. "Now."

She looked at him oddly. "I don't want to force -."

In that second, Remus rushed her and kissed her passionately. Again, their lips parted and tongues embraced. He pulled her close and felt her do the same. She broke for air and bit his neck. Unable to stop himself he groaned with pleasure.

She continued to bite his neck, and he continued to pant and moan. She seemed to derive intense pleasure from this, and each bite was harder.

"Stop!" he insisted, suddenly.

She tried to pull away from him, like a puppy who had just been kicked. "I'm sorry," she muttered.

"No no… it's just…" He panted, trying to catch his breath. "You were biting too hard. You were going to break skin. Something we have to be _very_ careful about." He smiled. "But, that was very enjoyable."

She smiled. I agree. "I _love_ when you gasp… the pleasure in your moans… it's just so invigorating."

"And you are honestly the best kisser I have ever met," he admitted confidently.

"You mean best female kisser."

"No, I mean best kisser. And I can't wait for more." He said with a smile.

The kissed lightly on the lips and went to the couch for a long, tactile snuggle session.


	35. Promises

Hermione looked at the decadent and delicate finery surrounding them. The iron wall sconces were twisted into scroll patterns and the light cast a gentle yellow light over the whole restaurant.

She leaned across the table and took his hands in hers. "Remus, I'm flattered, really. But, can we afford this?"

"Don't you worry about that," he said, clasping his hand on top of hers. His stomach clenched as he thought of how he had gotten the money to pay for the courtship of Hermione. Werewolf blood was valuable on the underground market. He had sold two vials of it, so far and had promised another five. It would all be well though – as long as he could keep it from Hermione.

Hermione didn't look convinced, but smiled and giggled a bit in excitement. "My boss told me how wonderful this restaurant is. I just never thought I'd be able to go." Her eyes glistened with love and happiness.

Remus sighed contently. If his blood could buy him that smile daily, he would sell gallons. Finally, he had done something to make her happy – to treat her as she deserves. He leaned back confidently. "How's work been? Are they treating you better?"

She shook her head. "Not really. But, I hear that Arthur's team is down one. I'm thinking of applying for the Administrative Assistant's position. The money is about the same, but it'll get me out of the blasted file room."

"I'll talk to Arthur about the position. It may be safer for you to stay in the file room for now. Out of sight, out of mind and all."

She shrugged. "I'm more concerned about 'out of mind, out of work'."

There are ways we can make money if you lose your job. "I'll take care of you. Don't you worry about that."

"I don't do that well," she replied, honestly.

"I know. But, I wish you wouldn't treat me like an invalid. As you can see, I can provide for you."

She blinked back the hurt she felt and lowered her eyes to the table.

"My apologies," he said more gently. "That isn't what I meant."

"I just don't know how you're providing this level of…"

"Enjoy it," he interrupted. "It won't always happen."

She seemed to relax a bit. "Okay. I'm sorry. I don't mean to seem ungrateful."

"You're not," he assured her with a smile. "Now stop worrying!"

She smiled as their appetizers were brought. "Actually, I wanted to bring up something important with you."

He closed his eyes and winced as if in pain.

"Remus?"

Quickly, he dug his handkerchief out of his pocket and sneezed heavily into it. "Hech-Wuffa!"

"Bless. Allergies?"

"Don't be a dolt. You know what's coming up."

She smiled as she realized the moon was at the end of the week. "Ah, I see," she replied, gently.

After another sneeze he looked at her over his handkerchief. His eyes pleading with her. After a quick blow he lowered his handkerchief. "Oh, Hermione. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"I understand, Remus, really. I don't take it personally."

"You shouldn't have to take it at all," he replied humbly.

"Remus?" When he looked at her, she whispered, "stop worrying."

He smiled. "What did you want to discuss with me?"

"You know how you've been writing the articles and I've been typing them up for you?"

He nodded.

"I think it's time you started typing the yourself. I'm so tired by the time my day ends… I just can't keep doing both."

He nodded. "I used to know how to type… on a typewriter, you know.. . But, it's been a long time."

"I understand," she replied with a smile. "The library has classes on Word, which is a common computer program used for typing… like a typewriter."

He nodded, warily.

"I'd really appreciate it if you took the classes."

He rubbed his forehead. "All right. If it'll make things easier on you."

"It will. Thank you."

He buried his nose into his handkerchief just in time for another heavy sneeze.

"Should we get the food to go?" Hermione asked, gently.

When he looked at her again, his eyes held the familiar glassy feverish hue. "I don't want to," he whispered.

"But, we will anyway. Please trust me on this."

He nodded and waved for the waiter.

Hermione bundled Remus up in their heaviest blanket, which he promptly shrugged off.

"I assure you, you are over reacting," he insisted.

"Perhaps so, but I can't help it. I want to make sure that you stay as healthy as possible before your transformation. Now, bundle up, and I'll bring dinner in here."

He rolled he eyes, but put the blanket over his lap.

"Hermione, listen," he said, as she took a seat next to him. "I appreciate your concern, but I assure you – ."

"You've seen worse, I know. Heck _we've_ seen worse. But, I like caring for you, okay? Please don't make me feel ashamed of it."

He sighed deeply. "I apologize if my actions make you feel ashamed. But, I wasn't actually going to say that."

"Oh," she said, sitting back and taking a bite of her dinner.

"I was going to say that I don't remember another time in my life where I felt so cared for – so loved. And I can honestly say that I've never had two weeks – in a row – without being sick before. I always have something. A sniffle, an allergy, a fever, a cold. _Something_. But, somehow you've made it so that I go through weeks without being ill and I thank you for that. If that means I get sick before the moon – it's okay. I'm used to it. But, it means you don't have to fret over every little fever. I assure you, I can handle it."

She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He went to take her hand, but instead coughed harshly into his fist.

She smiled weakly. "I'm going to go to bed. Thank you for an enchanting night. I'm just tired."

Without even clearing her plate, she went upstairs.

"Damn," he whispered as he watched her go.

"Hermione?" he whispered as he climbed into bed.

"Hmm?" she asked, still half asleep.

"I'm sorry if I upset you." He lay down, on his back, next to her. "I didn't mean to spoil tonight."

"You didn't." She rolled towards him, and draped her arm across his chest. "I'm sorry I fuss. I'll stop."

His heart strings tugged at him. "No, no no. I'm sorry. You know how touchy I get. I don't want you to stop."

"It's okay," she whispered sleepily. "Whatever it'll take to make you love me."

Remus groaned as his heart ached. He would just have to work harder to make her see how much she meant to him. "I'll show you," he whispered with a kiss to hear forehead. "I promise."


	36. Sarah

Still sniffling and coughing Remus dragged himself to the library. Logic told him that he should stay in bed and try to keep himself as well as possible. After all, Hermione would have enough to take care of the following week. But, he couldn't get her words out of his head. "Anything to make you love me."

He coughed lightly into his handkerchief. "I do love you, Hermione. And, I'll show you. Even if I can't tell you."

He found the room in the upstairs of the library and chose a seat towards the back.

The teacher walked in. She had long black hair, that she kept in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Her eyes were intoxicatingly turquoise, and her pale skin was flawless. Remus sniffled and smiled at her. "Sorry. I have to learn W-word, and um, I have quite an inconvenient cold."

"Come towards the front anyway. I'm used to it," she said, waving him forward.

He sneezed heavily into his handkerchief. "I'd really rather not. I'm sorry that you're used to people as … as… Heh-Wuffach!" After a gurgling blow he continued, "As discourteous as I. If my wife didn't want me to take this class, I assure you I would be at home."

"Time's always of the essence," she said, with a smile. "It's okay. You just seem to have a cold. No biggie. You'd be surprised how many ailments people come in with. This will be a breeze. Now, tell me when the last time you used a computer was."

"Computer?" he answered, sheepishly.

She smiled. "Okay. Let's start from the beginning. Hi, my name is Sarah. What's yours?"

"Remus, you're a hoot!" Sarah said, laughing lightly.

Remus smiled. To him, her voice sounded like drops of rain landing lightly on a piano – it was so melodic. He couldn't help but enjoy listening to her speak, and they had been talking for hours.

After the hour long class, Sarah had asked Remus out to a cup of tea. He paled slightly as they entered Starbucks. He couldn't imagine paying that much for tea. But, she had treated him. They chose a table in the corner and had talked and laughed for hours.

It was a light, easy conversation. And, unlike Hermione, his cold didn't seem to bother or worry her at all. He missed this sort of connection with someone, and prided himself on developing a friendship. He couldn't wait to tell Hermione all about her.

"And then she said that she teaches at the library on the days when she isn't teaching at University. Isn't that fascinating?" he asked, brightly.

"What does she teach at University?" Hermione asked. She set to plating dinner and enjoyed Remus being the animated and free-spirited person that she recalled him being.

"Computer studies, I think. We didn't really get into it."

She sighed inwardly. What she wouldn't give for him to connect with her this way. But, it was okay. He didn't mind her having male friends. Who was she to mind him having female friends?

"Will you be taking another class tomorrow?"

He sneezed heavily, and was surprised when she didn't respond. Even Sarah blessed him.

"Depends on how I'm feeling."

"Makes sense. Here," she said, handing him a bowl of stew.

"Soup huh?"

"Don't like it? Eat something else," she snapped.

He furrowed his brow in concern. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, why?" she asked as she joined him at the table.

"This is the second night in a row that you've said you were tired."

"Don't worry about it. Tell me more about Sarah."

The second she said her name, he lit up.

"Oh my gosh, you have to hear what she named her cats…" he started.

The week continued like that: Remus slowly getting sicker, but going out with Sarah anyway, and coming home with story after story about how wonderful she was.

Two days before the moon, however, he felt too weak to get out of bed.

"Do you want me to stay home," she asked as she took his temperature. "You're burning up."

"No… thanks. I'll just sleep it off."

She smiled. "Too bad we don't have a phone. I'd call Sarah."

"Yea," he said with a smile. "I asked a few leading questions, but she's a muggle. Guess we couldn't send her an owl." He smiled lightly.

"Guess not," Hermione said with a sigh. "I need to do some research tonight, so I may be a little late. I'll bring home dinner, okay?"

Remus only smiled in reply, and Hermione wondered if he was looking at her or thinking of Sarah.

"There it is," Hermione whispered, as she leafed through the homo-lupo contract and compared it to current werewolf law. "Werewolves are not human and therefore are property same as beasts. Likewise, ownership thereof can be transferred to another human by means of contract signature."

She twisted her wedding band on her finger, and stifled tears. She hadn't meant to fall in love with him. But, he was obviously developing strong feelings for this 'Sarah'. She wanted to allow him to be friends with her, but couldn't help but wish upon wish that he felt the same joy when he was with her.

"He didn't want me to stay, but wanted Sarah there today," she whispered, as the tears made their way over the brim of her eyes. She sighed deeply. "He loves her."


	37. Permission for Release

Remus awoke with a start. He hadn't remembered his transformation, but here he was, cold and not alone on the basement floor.

"Be still," Hermione commanded him. "You're fever is deathly high. I need to bring it down before I can move you."

"Hermione I ah!" He gasped at the pain that speaking caused.

"I told you to be still," she said, gently, as she tended to his many cuts and bruises. She applied cold compress after cold compress to his forehead and neck, but he still felt sick.

"Hermie… I think I'm gonna be…"

"Don't you be sick… don't you be sick… those potions have to stay in…"

But, it was too late. His stomach spasmed and he lost all the potion that she had coaxed him to swallow.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "We'll just have to wait until that fever comes down. Way down."

He looked at her, through squinted eyes. She had been crying.

"Hermie, what's wrong?" he choked out.

"I don't know, Remus. I've never seen you this sick after transformation. Especially when you were not sick going into it. Or at least not that sick."

He let out a gruff sigh. "Nah. I'm not talking about me. Talking about you. You've been crying."

"We'll discuss it when you're feeling better, Remus."

"Then there is something the matter."

She nodded once. "Yea. But, only to me. So, it's not that important."

For the first time in his life he seriously wanted to deck a woman. How could she think that he wouldn't think whatever was bothering her wouldn't matter? Hadn't he been working hard enough to prove himself. She was the only reason he was taking the Word classes. 'Well… not the _only_ reason,' he thought to himself. But, she had been the reason he had started to begin with.

He glared at her.

"That's not what I meant. I meant that it's nothing detrimental to either of us, it's just something that's important. But, not now," she insisted as she switched out the cold compress.

Remus didn't wake up again that morning, so she took PTO to stay with him. As she watched him sleep she wondered how she had lost him. She felt like she was a million miles away.

"I love you, Remus."

"I love you too, Mione," he whispered back.

She laughed a short bitter laugh. 'Oh, how I wish that were true,' she thought to herself.

Later that evening Remus awoke with a sneeze that ripped from his head and chest and threw him forward. He screamed in agony before plopping back down onto the pillows, and Hermione couldn't help but be grateful that she had not witnessed the display. Not only would it have embarrassed him, but she would have insisted on fussing over him. And, it was now obvious to her, that's how she had lost him in the first place.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, as she came into the room.

He smiled at her, and her heart melted. "Like someone who has been torn apart and spit back out, then put together by the most loving, wonderful person in the world."

She smiled and folded her arms. "Sorry, Sarah's not here," she spat out, before she could stop herself.

"What?" he asked, clearly shocked by her reaction. "Is that what was bothering you earlier?"

"No, don't worry about it. I'll tell you later."

"You'll tell me now," he croaked.

"I know you love her, Remus," she replied in as steady of a voice as she could muster. "It's obvious the way you light up every time her name is mentioned or whenever you talk about her. It's in our contract. You can go."

"I don't want to be released."

"Well you said she was a muggle. So, if you want to go have a relationship with her, you can stay married to me." Hermione's voice caught. She couldn't believe what she was saying. "You can call me a sick sister or something, and I'll still care for you during the moon. That way…" Her breath caught again. Just saying the words caused pain to course through her body. "That way, you won't be alone during the moon."

"Hermione. I'm not that selfish…"

"Then when you're ready to wed, I can sign you over to her. And, then you'll be free… free to love who you want. And then you're not trapped here any longer."

"Hermione, no…" He didn't have the strength to argue with her. Nor did he have the strength to cry. But, he couldn't remember a time in his life when he wanted to do either so badly.

"Think about it, Remus. Think about what you want. I'll be waiting for you."

Without another word, she stifled a sob and ran downstairs. She hoped he couldn't hear her sob, but she didn't really care if he did.

Remus listened to his wife, the one he cherished above all others try to release him. Then he listened to her sob for hours. What had he done?


	38. The Kiss

Hermione made certain that she was out of the house before Remus' consciousness even considered awakening. After working another long and dusty day in the deepest vaults of the Ministry, Hermione headed off to a muggle bar to drown her sorrows in some real Irish whiskey. She knew that she was welcome at the Weaslys, but she wanted to talk to a woman. Seeing none, she set herself up in a corner with six shots and tried to make sense of the mess she found herself in.

Remus awoke with a harsh cough. "Mione?" he called. When no reply came, he figured she went to work. He couldn't blame her. She had to keep some part of her life in order. Especially since she felt her marriage was in such shambles.

'How could she think I love Sarah at all – let alone more?' he thought as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. Another harsh, wet cough ripped from his chest and he braced for the pain which always followed.

No pain.

He opened his eyes slowly and stretched timidly. No pain.

"How does she _do_ that?" he mumbled. He knew that he had chastised her for caring, and that she said she would pull back… _Ding!_ He pinched the bridge of his nose as he realized that she was caring for him while he slept. While this certainly wasn't new, he realized that she was focusing all of the energy that she would have been during the day at night. "Oh dear... if she thinks I love Sarah, it'll ruin everything. Oh… I gotta talk to Sarah."

It took him most of the day to get going, but he managed to pull himself together well enough to show up at the library in time for her class.

She lit up as he walked into the room and waved him over.

'Strange, I never noticed how her eyes smile when she looks at me,' he observed. He smiled and thought about how excited Hermione got whenever someone she cared about walked into the room. And, the smile rose to his eyes as he realized that it was the same smile Hermione gave him. 'Oh.'

By the end of the class, Remus could type 25 words per minute and knew enough about Word to at least type up his articles instead of hand-writing them.

Sarah smiled and waited for him to pack up his things. "Starbucks today?" she asked, brightly.

"No," he said, sadly. "We need to talk."

"What?" she asked, playfully. Then seriously, she added, "Remus what is it?"

He sniffled wetly, and sneezed heavily into the crook of his elbow. "Excuse me," he said, breathily, as he waited to see if another sneeze was upon him or not.

"Bless you. Do you want to go home?"

"No, we need to talk," he said, seriously.

"We could go to my flat. I don't live far from here."

"No."

"Oh. Okay. Well come on. I know this quiet little bar a few blocks away. Barely anyone ever goes there during the week. It's dark and quiet. We won't be bugged there."

He blew his nose stuffily. "Sounds good. Lead the way."

Hermione couldn't believe her dumb luck. Her eyes narrowed as she watched a busty, middle aged beauty with long blue-black hair lead her husband into the bar.

Sarah.

She contemplated approaching them. But, something in her told her to trust Remus. He was a good man with a good heart. It's why she had wanted to marry him in the first place.

They had chosen a seat near her, but not close enough for her to hear what they were saying.

She shook her head. 'He must be really feeling unwell, or he would have picked up my scent by now.'

She watched as he caught a double sneeze in his handkerchief, and Sarah nudged away from him before touching him lightly on the shoulder.

He held his hand up and scooted away from her slightly as he began to speak.

"Sarah I really like you. You're smart and funny, and ever so beautiful," Remus started.

Sarah brightened and started to move towards him. She reach towards his hands, where he was nervously fidgeting with his handkerchief. But, he pulled them away.

"But, I'm married," he said, gesturing towards his wedding band.

"To someone you never speak about. It's almost like it was an arranged marriage."

He tilted his head. "In a manner of speaking it was. But, I love, and I know she loves me. I can't hurt her like this."

"Like what?" Sarah asked, abruptly. "Doesn't she have guy friends? And, wait… an arranged marriage? Oh you poor thing. You love her because you're supposed to. You don't even know what true passion is." In that second, she launched herself at him and kissed him.

Hermione stiffened and waited.

Remus froze and closed his eyes. He felt her press her lips to his and slip in her tongue. In an instant he was swept away to Hermione curled up in his arms, Hermione's kisses and her passion and the passion he felt when he was with her.

Unable to handle the pain of watching him kiss another, Hermione burst into tears and fled out the door.


	39. Another Chance

"No!" Remus said as he pushed Sarah away. "No," he repeated, as she went to kiss him again. "I love, Hermione more than I've ever loved any other woman. More than I ever thought was possible. I don't want to kiss you. I don't want this."

"Oh," she said, sadly. "I guess I misread that. I thought you liked me. I like you, Remus. And, I honestly think your wife takes you for granted."

"I like you too, Sarah. As a friend." At her silence, he continued. "Hermione does not take me for granted."

With that, he stood up and left without another word.

Hermione threw herself down on the bed and wept. The bed smelled like him. She wanted to scream and tear the covers off the bed. But, she couldn't help but hold his pillow to her. She pretended that she was holding onto him, and enjoyed pretending he was letting her.

"Why can't I hate you?" she screamed. "Why do I have to love you?"

Remus staggered as he apparated home. His head started to throb uncontrollably. He felt like it was going to explode and like his lungs were on fire. He had heard of this happening before. His Hermione was in danger.

"Mione!" he called, as he forced himself to stagger towards the stairs.

Within moments, he heard her descending the stairs. She had been crying, again.

"So, you've returned home. Is it to collect your things, or to toss me out?"

"What?" he asked, wincing as he sat down. "Neither."

"Hm. I was at the bar, Remus."

His hand flew to his face. "Oh geez. What did you see?"

"Enough," she replied coldly. "All you had to do was say you were in love with someone else. I can respect that. You've been looking for love since Sirius. And if you've found it," the tears started to flow and she briskly wiped them away, "then I'm happy for you," she finished through the tears.

He got up and went to hold her. But, she stepped back.

"Understand," she continued, crossing her arms in front of her, "that if we had a stronger relationship – if we were making this work, _really_ work then I wouldn't care if you hung out with her, if you flirted, or even kissed her hello and goodbye." She paused. "But, I know what I'm losing. And, I can't help but suffer for it."

"Hermione, you did not see what you thought you saw."

"You kissed back."

"Only because I was thinking of you."

"I'm young, not stupid."

"No, Hermione, you didn't see the end. I pushed her away. I told her no. I told her I wanted to be with you."

A smile crept over Hermione's face. "Really?"

In a moment, she flashed to his point of view. She saw him pushing Sarah away, and though his voice was muted he definitely walked away from the situation.

"Occlumency?" she gasped.

He smiled. "A bit. Only when necessary."

Hermione crumpled onto the floor, and started to sob.

Alarmed, Remus knelt beside her. "Hermione? What is it? Sweetheart, you've got to talk to me. What is it?"

"I'm so sorry. I didn't trust you. I should have trusted you," she gasped out between sobs.

He pet her hair and pulled her close to him. "It's okay. I understand. I do. I'm sorry I haven't given you enough security to trust me. I will. I promise, I will."

Remus looked at the sleeping beauty at his side, and pulled her closer. He kissed her lightly, careful not to wake her. He lightly raked his fingers through her hair.

He'd hurt her deeply this time, he realized. He should have noticed when she mentioned that she wasn't Sarah. No, he should've noticed before. All the conversations about Sarah were one sided. Hermione stopped eating with him, stopped smiling. She didn't want to converse. He sighed heavily. She was depressed, and he had caused it. How many more chances was she going to give him before leaving?

He felt his stomach turn at the prospect of losing her. He couldn't bear it. He couldn't imagine life without her. He wondered if she yearned for a life without him. The thought made him want to cry.


	40. The Dream

Sirius stood before Remus.

He was older, more exhausted than Remus ever remembered seeing him. It was as if he had aged right along with him. As if he had never died.

Remus was elated. "Sirius," he breathed, as he stepped forward.

Sirius backed up, always staying just outside arms reach. "No, Remus, I can't stay long."

Remus' face fell and he felt his heart start to break. "Don't leave me again," he begged.

"Remus, I'm gone!" Sirius snapped. "And you're being an idiot. Both of us knew how smart and bright and wonderful Hermione was – and that was as a child! Now she's a beautiful, intelligent adult who loves you, Remus. She _loves_ you. And, you're letting the memory of me take that away."

Suddenly, they were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, just as it had been when they went. The roaring fire warmed Remus almost as much as the sight of Sirius had.

"Sirius, you know when a werewolf mates it's for life."

Sirius nodded. "Of course I do. But, you my fine friend are bi. You have the distinct advantage of being able to mate with both sexes. You and I were mates. But, I'm gone."

Tears rolled over Remus' cheeks. "I don't want you to be gone."

Sirius' look softened. "Oh Rem. I didn't want to leave you either. I loved you with everything in me. But, you can't stop living because I have. And, you have."

Remus nodded.

"And, Hermione is suffering for it."

Remus stifled a sob. "I love her."

"I know. And you've told so many people that. But, you haven't told her. And, she needs to hear it. She _needs _it, Rem."

"I'm sorry, Sirius."

Sirius' expression went from serious, to confused. "Remus, you're not betraying me or my memory by loving again. I want you to love. I want you to be happy. I want you to tell her."

Remus could no longer hold back the sobs. He wanted so badly to hold Sirius, to be with him again.

"Remus, you shouldn't need my permission to move on with your life, or to love again. But, if you feel you need it, then by God you have it."

"Thank you," Remus choked out between sobs.

Remus felt Sirius' hand on his shoulder. "Remus, I loved you then. I love you still. But, you need to love again, and you need to let her know you do. Otherwise she's going to kill herself trying to make you see she's worth it. Don't torture yourself or her to be true to me."

"I don't want to cheat on you, Sirius."

"Your not. But, you are cheating yourself. And you're cheating her."

Sirius jumped back suddenly. "I have to go. I love you. And you love both of us. And, that's good."

With that he disappeared.

Hermione's eyes flew open as she felt Remus shake beside her.

Her heart melted as she realized that he was crying in his sleep, murmuring Sirius' name.

Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his face, intermingling with the tears.

She couldn't explain it, but the scene made her love him even more.

She snuck out to the bathroom and came back with a cool cloth. No sooner had she started to wipe away the tears than his eyes flew open.

He looked at her with a wild, terrified look. "Hermione," he gasped, weakly, before embracing her tightly.

She embraced him just as tightly and dropped kisses on his shoulder and neck. "Shhh… I'm here. I've got you," she murmured.

"I'm sorry, Mione. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you doubt my love for you. I didn't mean to make you doubt us. I'm so sorry. I love you. I've loved you for months." He continued to sob.

"It's okay, Remus. You don't have to," she whispered.

"I want to, and I do. And, you don't believe me."

"I've pushed you to say it. And, now you are. But, you don't have to."

"Mione, I love you. Please don't doubt me. I just… I didn't want to betray Sirius. But, I can love you both. And I do love you."

She felt her heart swell with joy and confidence. She believed him. She felt it. "I love you, too. Now get some rest."

He shook his head, and held her close again.

"It's okay, Remus. I have you, and I'm not letting you go."

Author's Note: This is not the end. Not even close. Just a convenient place to stop, for now.


	41. A New Beginning

Author's Note: I realized that with my past habits of disappearing that you all are going to think that I'm ending it there. It's not over, and I don't want it to be. I thought about making a 3rd story, but really I just want to continue this one. I hope you all don't mind.

Hermione lay awake next to her now snoring husband.

'He said he loves me,' she thought with a smile. She traced her fingers over his arm, and draped her arm around his waist.

She sighed. But, he had hurt her. Deeply. Repeatedly.

But, he had also been very defensive of her. She remembered the look that he gave her when they were at the Con. The look of love that reached his eyes.

She felt so confused. In fact, she felt so confused that she felt nauseous. She thought that when he admitted that he loved her that things would be easier, but really they were more confusing than ever.

How could he love her, yet hurt her so much? But, it wasn't like he was trying to be malicious. He wasn't that sort of guy. They were just perfectly mismatched in certain ways. Or maybe they weren't. Maybe it was the rush of the arrangement.

Her stomach twisted, but she swallowed the nausea. Instead of breaking contact, she held him closer. She couldn't bear to be away from him. Not tonight.

The next day when she returned home from work, he was gone. She wondered if he was with Sarah, but figured if anything he was at the library taking those stupid computer courses.

She shook her head. She trusted her husband. She trusted her friend. She wouldn't let her doubts ruin a good night. And, tonight, was going to be a good night. She set to cooking a nice filet mignon dinner. Tonight was about them. Tonight would be the perfect new beginning.

Dinner was ruined.

Remus hadn't come home. She had sent out her owl to look for him, but she too had gone missing.

Just as she started to think that the night before had all been a lie, Remus rushed in the front door.

"My deepest apologies my love. I was at the library and lost track of time."

She raised her eyebrows, "Oh?"

"Look," he said as he dropped a stack of papers on the table. "We're ready for the next newsletter."

Hermione looked at the pieces of paper. Remus has meticulously typed each of his proposed articles for the second newsletter, and not a moment too soon. She would have to review them and get them to the publishing house within a week in order to make it to the presses in time for the second release.

She smiled brightly. "Remus, you never cease to amaze me."


	42. Night Terrors

"_Monster…"_

The word was whispered so softly, Remus wasn't certain if he had dreamt it or not.

He opened his eyes and scrambled to his feet. He was no longer in their cottage, but lying upon a cold stone floor. Three of the walls were also made of stone, and the fourth had steel bars. He searched for his wand, but it had been taken away from him.

"Who are you?" he called out. "What have I done?"

"Silence, werewolf!" an evil voice answered from the darkness. "We never thought anyone would _marry_ one of you _things_. But, that Hermione. She is a particular witch, now isn't she?"

"You leave her alone!" he snarled, racing up to the bars.

"Funny how well you sleep when you are away from her…" the voice continued.

"Think on it. You have been asleep for days. Though that could be the aconite too…"

For days… 'Oh no,' he thought "Where's Hermione?"

"Looking for you, I'm sure. But, for reasons that I cannot explain."

Remus snarled. "What have I done?"

"You're a werewolf. But, don't worry, a few tests and we'll release you back into the wild. Or into her loving arms. That is, if she'll have you after what we're going to do to you. Don't you worry though. You'll be able to watch her through the mirror."

Remus saw Hermione calling for him, and then collapsing into a heap on the couch, crying.

"Why she cries at the loss of you, I'll never know," the voice said.

"She loves me," he whispered.

The room filled with maniacal laughter. "Of course she does. You just keep believing that."

Unable to handle the pain of watching her anymore, Remus closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

"Wake up werewolf," the voice commanded. "Come see what your disappearance has done to her."

Remus opened his eyes. His Hermione was sitting on the couch, staring into space. She looked as if she had not moved for many hours, and he was concerned about the last time she had eaten. Finally, she started to move.

She got a piece of rope from the basement. He watched as her nimble fingers tied a slipknot in the form of a hangman's noose.

"I won't have a husband who walks out on me," he heard her whisper.

"No… No Hermione! I'm here. I wouldn't leave you! No!" But, he knew she couldn't hear him.

He watched as she tied the rope to the support beam that ran over the middle of the staircase. She wrapped the noose around her neck and jumped…

"NO!" Remus screamed, bolting upright in bed. His vision swam before him and he felt sick.

"Remus, what is it?" Hermione asked, sitting beside him in an instant.

"Hermione, you're alive!" he exclaimed in relief.

"Of course I am," she said with a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He embraced her and kissed her passionately. When he felt that he could believe his senses, he let her go.

"Night terrors?" she asked, as she brushed her hand against his cheek.

He nodded. "I thought you were dead. That I was captured and you were dead."

He saw her eyes darken in the moonlight. "If you are ever captured, I will not rest until I find you. And, as you can see,I am very much alive."

He took a deep breath and held her close. Together they drifted back to sleep, comfortable in each other's arms.


	43. Morning Snuggles

Hermione woke up early that Saturday with the specific purpose of watching Remus sleep. His breathing was deep and rhythmic, but his heart beat was fast. She wondered if that was part of werewolf physiology, or if it was an indicator of something going awry.

She sighed as she berated herself for not already knowing that.

She breathed in his scent, musky with a bit of saltiness. He had night terrors again. He'd had at least one every night since he confessed he loved her. She wondered if one had to do with the other and supposed that it did. The previous night's had been particularly violent, causing him to sweat, cry, and scream.

She had pulled off his shirt in an effort to cool him down, but she was certain he didn't remember it. He had never willingly shown himself, topless, to her, and she worried that he would be angry – or worse, embarrassed – by her action.

She traced her fingers over the side of his stomach and marveled at how soft his skin was, even though it was marred with so many scars. She ran her fingers over each scar and wondered when they had happened and who had taken care of him during that transformation. She assumed those that had healed poorly happened during the years when he was alone, and tried to remember about potions that would help him heal more completely.

She teased his waistband with her fingers and wanted nothing more than to trace the scars that weaved themselves below it. But, he had made his decision clear. He did not want her to get too passionate, let alone touch him in any intimate areas.

She planted a light kiss on the scar that cut across his belly button, making it look like he had been mistaken for a c-section patient. She startled when she heard a slight chuckle and shied away instantly.

Remus looked at Hermione as she traced his scars fingered his waistband. If he hadn't seen it himself, he never would have believed it. This young beauty truly was attracted to him. She wasn't repulsed by his scars, and she seemed to want to take things even further than just playful touches. He never thought he'd see this day.

He couldn't stop himself from letting out a laugh when she kissed his scar. It was so light that it tickled. But, he was confused when, instead of looking at him and smiling confidently, she pulled away and looked down , as if she was ashamed that she had been caught.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I've just never seen you like this."

"Topless?" he guessed, trying to make her smile.

She shook her head no, then nodded yes. "Topless and well."

He nodded. "It truly is a nice combination. I rather enjoy it."

She smiled and he watched a wave of relief cross her face.

He opened up his arm to her, and she snuggled into it.

"How long have you been watching me sleep?" he asked, tenderly planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"Not long enough. I'm sure you're exhausted. You should get more rest."

He nodded. "My dreams…they were intense last night."

She nodded, then looked up and their lips met for a momentary kiss.

"Thank you for caring for me. I'm sure it's getting tiring. You're working all day and then caring for me at night. Not much of a life."

"It's a perfect life," she said, tenderly. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

He smiled. "You're sweet. But, even I want it other ways."

She shrugged. "We'll have it. Someday." They snuggled in companionable silence for a few moments, before she spoke again. "More dreams about my death?"

He stayed silent for a few moments, and she thought that he had fallen back to sleep. "No," he admitted, finally.

"Sirius?"

"No," he whispered. His grip around her tightened, and he curled towards her.

She rolled onto her side and allowed him to pull her into his chest. "James and Lily?"

His breath hitched and she wished that she could see him, since she knew he was crying.

It took him a few moments to find his words, but when he did he only had one. "Harry."


	44. Harry

Hermione scooted herself backwards, pressing her body as close as she could to Remus. She could feel his stomach quivering against her back, and could tell that he was crying even before he heard his breath catch or the wet sniffle that followed.

She half expected him to sneeze, and then she found herself wishing that he would. Harry's death was almost never spoken of. It was so sudden, and not at all sudden all at once.

About a month after he and Cho's wedding, Harry developed a cough. Thinking nothing of it, he took a few potions and ignored it. Nearly a month later, he was still annoyed by harsh, wet cough and Cho _finally_ convinced him to go to a muggle doctor.

He was immediately hospitalized with deep seated walking pneumonia, and within two weeks his lungs collapsed.

Not a single friend didn't feel the guilt of thinking that the should have known or seen or somehow been able to stop it. But, Harry had died the night of the full moon, and Remus was so sick he didn't even find out for another four days.

Remus' guilt was intense, but he never wanted to discuss it. He never wanted help to get through he pain. Instead, he retreated within himself and the group understood that it was one of those topics that should not be discussed.

"It's not your fault," Hermione whispered, more to herself than to him.

He held her closer and kissed her neck. His stomach was still moving erratically against her back. "No, not your fault," he said as if he was forgiving her.

"Not your fault either," she returned.

His sobs became more pronounced, and he adjusted his arms to hold her tighter without hurting her. "If you only knew. If you knew my shame… you wouldn't love me. No one would love me… I'd be treated the way I deserve – like a werewolf."

Without warning he turned on his other side and hugged his arms around himself.

Hermione shivered at the loss of his body warmth. They had all known that it would happen, that one day Remus would release. She used to hope she would be the person he would trust enough to open up to. But, now she wished this had happened years ago – to someone else.

Instinctively, she turned over and wrapped her arms around him, just as he had been holding her. "Rem, sweetie. It's not your fault. It sucks and it's not fair. But, it's not your fault."

"I wasn't even there, he cared for me and I wasn't even there. Just like his parents… just like…oh … Hermie…" He moved away from her touch.

"He died on a full moon, Remus. How the hell would you be there?" she snapped. She winced immediately. "I'm sorry," she practically yelled. "Remus, I didn't mean to snap."

"Don't apologize, Hermione. I deserve it." He paused before continuing, "This frelling disease. This illness. I couldn't defend James and Lily and I couldn't be there for his son. And, it's all my fault he was sick."

She put her hand on his shoulder and stroked his arm slowly. "Rem, what are you talking about? Let me know. I'm your _wife_. I won't go anywhere. I'm not going to be angry, I swear."

He looked at her over his shoulder, and grasped her hand in his. "Don't make promises that you can't keep."

"Tell me," she said, gently. She squeezed his hand and held onto it.

He took a quivering breath and laid his head back down.

She pulled his shoulder, gently, trying to get him to turn to face her. "Remus, look at me."

"No," he breathed. "I can't face you. Not yet."

She planted a kiss on the back of his head. "It's okay," she soothed.

He took a deep breath. "I was sick the month before Harry. Combination that time… flu and pneumonia. Molly had tried to get me to go to St. Mungos, but I didn't want to. There was nothing they could have given me anyway." He swallowed thickly, and stifled a sob. "Harry came by every day after work to take care of me. Even Cho came by when she wasn't working. After a while, it almost felt like they lived here… well when I was conscious anyway."

"That's good, Rem. Harry loved you so much. I'm glad he got to show you."

Remus shook his head. "No… don't you see? I gave it to him, Hermione. He caught the pneumonia from me."

He finally turned back onto his other side, so that he was facing her. "I killed him," he whispered before he burst into tears again. "I killed Harry, just as sure as if I'd cursed him."

She pulled his head to her chest and rubbed his back soothingly. "No, Remus. That's not right. You didn't kill him. You didn't purposefully make him sick."

"But he got sick all the same. And, then he died. And, I couldn't even be there to say goodbye."

"Shhh," she murmured. "No one blames you. It's not your fault. It's just a cruel fact of life. Just rest, Remus." She tightened her grip around him and let him sob until he'd worn himself out and drifted off to sleep.

A few minutes later, he spoke again. "I understand if you don't love me anymore. I know Harry was one of your closest friends. I robbed the world of something beautiful, and I deserve to be cast out for my crime."

"Oh, Remus. The last thing you deserve is to be pushed away. Illness happens, even to healthy wizards. Harry didn't blame you then and I don't blame you now. But, you have to learn to forgive yourself."

"I don't think I can."

"It's okay. It'll take time, and I'll help you."

Remus smiled and sniffed thickly. "What did I do to deserve someone as wonderful as you?"

"You were you. And that was enough."

Remus smiled. "I want to bathe in your metaphorical blood," he said jokingly.

"It's not blood," she responded. "It's a metaphor for love."


	45. Crucial Conversations

Remus coughed harshly and winced at the sharp pain that stabbed at his throat. His ears tickled as if they had feathers in the, but were plugged as if they were stuffed with cotton.

"Here," Hermione said, coming back to bed, and handing him a cup of stinging nettle tea. "Hopefully, it'll help open you up."

"I haben't cried like that in a long tibe. I forgod why."

She smiled and went to his dresser to get a handkerchief. "It's okay, Remus. I'm glad you opened up to me like that. I'm honored that you trust me so."

He took the handkerchief and blew his nose with a stifled honk. "I'b just habby that you are still here."

"I told you Remus, it's not your fault. And, since I know you don't believe me, let me put it this way: I don't blame you for what happened."

He went to smile, but his eyes fluttered closed. "Huh-Wuffa! Wuffa! Eh…Heh-Tessh!"

"Bless." She climbed back into bed with him again. "Are you coming down sick?" she asked, covering him securely with the blanket.

"Doh," he answered, in a not very convincing way. "Just when I release like that, my body tries to … heh…ex…expel all the…crud…Huh-Wuffa!" He blew his nose more freely this time. "Do excuse me, Mione. I'm sure this gets frightfully exhausting for you." He yawned.

"Perhaps it is you who are exhausted. But, I enjoy caring for you."

"That's good. Because you do it a lot." He stifled another yawn.

Suddenly, she remembered that he didn't like when she took care of him. She nearly jumped off the bed in alarm. "Why don't you get some rest? I have some grocery shopping to do, and then I'll come back up. I mean, if you want me to."

"What? Go shopping?"

"Come back… to bed I mean."

"What?" he asked, clearly confused. "Hermione what… I …." His breathing started to hitch again and he raised the handkerchief in preparation. After a particularly wet sneeze, he brought his knees as close to his chest as they would comfortably go, and leaned himself forward. "What just happened?" he asked, sounding very much like the teacher she remembered from Hogwarts.

"Um," she fidgeted under his steady gaze. She took a deep breath and shook her head. "Obviously, it's nothing. I'll be back." She turned to leave and headed for the door.

"Hermione stop!" Remus ordered. "You see, this is how we get ourselves into these fixes. One of us thinks whatever's bothering us is not important to the other."

"It's really not that important."

He tilted his head to the side and gave her a look that stated (quite clearly) that he did not believe her.

She sighed and felt an uncomfortable knot form in her stomach. "You don't like it when I fuss. I'm fussing. This is not even a cold, and yet I find that I don't want to leave your side. I'm fussing. But, you don't seem to mind, for now. I don't want to overdo and annoy you."

Remus blinked rapidly and dropped his gaze. Talk about mixed signals. Half the time he enjoyed the time together and the other half he hated the attention. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He wanted to lay back down, roll over, and go to sleep. But, he couldn't imagine how much damage that would do to her psyche.

"No!" she exclaimed. She was growing so tired of him apologizing. "Don't apologize for everything. It's not your fault. I just don't-."

"It is!" Remus interjected. He coughed wetly. "It is," he repeated quietly. "You have given everything you have, every day. And I… I've been a moody selfish bastard."

Shopping be damned. Hermione climbed back onto the bed. "My love, you are _so_ excessively hard on yourself. Everyone gets moody – especially when they're sick."

"Which is part of your disease. I knew that getting into this."

"Which you wouldn't have to if I didn't have the disease," he said, still not looking at her.

She blushed and tried to suppress a smile. "I had quite a crush on you at Hogwarts. And, through the Order… I mean… really… i-if I thought you would have given me the time of day… I-I would have approached you."

His eyes flicked up to her. "You would have… approached me…" He stifled a cough.

"For a date. I've always rather fancied you, Remus."

He squinted at her as if he never considered such a reality. "And you never …approached…me, why?"

"Well Hogwarts aside," she started.

He shrugged as if to say, 'obviously'.

There was University, and everyone in the Order knows that you and Tonks were perfect for each other…"

He chuckled. "Is that what you all know? Let me explain why we didn't work, and why she did not approach me for marriage when the law came out." He sighed. "Tonks though that being a werewolf affected my life for about a week and a half out of the month. A few days before as the moon called to me and a few days after as I healed. She did not see my colds and allergies and … guilt… as something that required any attention whatsoever. And, honestly, she fancied children with me."

Hermione cringed at the word 'children'.

"That was my response too." He smiled at her. "Tonks wanted a life that even I could not give her."

"What do you mean, 'even you'?

Remus sighed and scratched his chin. "You and I, we never really discussed finances."

"We did, working situations and why you have difficulty finding a job, and that I don't have to pay rent because you own your home and the lack of electricity, telly, and phone… I mean, really…"

"Savings," he interjected, before she could think that he was Mr. Wonderful again.

"True. I don't have much. But, I have three accounts. One, I moved into our name, and the other two which are still in mine."

He nodded and fought a wave of nausea. "I have saving from Sirius. Along with leaving Grimmauld Place to me, he left the savings that James and Lily left them – Harry's godfather – and his life savings. It's a decent amount."

Hermione nodded. Everyone knew that Sirius left him everything. No one knew what everything was."

"So, she thought that you would give her a more… elegant life."

He nodded, "Yea."

"But, you have a chronic disease. You can't just spend the money on frivolous things. You need it to be there when you need it to be there."

He nodded. "And, I don't like spending it. It makes me feel like I'm spending blood money. How many people needed to die so that I could have that?"

"It makes sense," Hermione said. "And, it makes sense that you are apprehensive to spend it. Does Gringots give you interest on it?"

He nodded. "Is it enough to help with groceries?"

He bristled. "Yes. How much?"

"Well being that you eat less than I do, and what you eat is more simple…"

"Stop."

"What?"

"Stop. I'll pay for groceries from now on."

"No… no… if you could just pay for it sometimes…"

"We'll work it out."

She smiled. "Okay." After a pause she added, "Is that how you're paying for our courtship?"

He looked at her as if he had been caught. "Yes," he lied.

"Well I'm sure you friends would have wanted you to be happy and in love. I couldn't think of a better reason for the money… well at least some of it." She smiled.

Then she flopped onto her back and sighed heavily. "You said that there were other ways to make money."

"What?" he asked, breathily. He had started to sweat when he realized that he still owed three vials of blood. Granted he had not yet been paid for those, but the fact still remained that they were expected. Hermione had said that she wanted to go shopping. A quarter of a vial could pay for something very special for this very special woman. But, now she was waiting for an answer.

"When I was worried about losing my job at the Ministry, you said there were 'other ways'. Is it the money at Gringots?"

"Partially. We could easily get you a muggle job. I mean you know Hogwarts will cover as a muggle school, and you went to a wizard/muggle friendly University."

"I could never get this sort of time off at a muggle job. How could I care for you? And on another point, how could we do the Con circuit?"

"Put the magazine out of your head. I could do the Con circuit on my own, if I had to. As far as caring for me… there's a bookstore – muggle store - just outside Kensington Square. The owner is a friend of mine. He knows I'm sickly, but not with what. He's always looking for a store manager. I know he couldn't pay you what the Ministry does, but he wouldn't give you such a hassle either. And, if I introduce you as my wife, he'll understand when you say that you need to get home, stay home, work odd hours, whatever. He's a good man."

Hermione nodded. "Do you know how tempting that offer is?"

"I do. I know you're not happy at the Ministry."

"I'm not the first person to be unhappy there. And, if you leave it's not like they let you come back…"

"Don't let them scare you into staying. Talk to Arthur about the life he's stuck in. They didn't provide well for them."

"Provided well enough, a family of six is hard to raise."

Remus looked at her as if to say, 'Really?'

"Okay, fair point. I'll consider talking to your friend."

He smiled and coughed.

"Which brings me back to my being a fussy pain in the arse."

He leaned over and shook her leg. "You're not a pain. You're an angel."

She laughed out loud. "Hardly."

"Naw, to care for me the way you do. To be there whether I want you there or not."

Hermione looked up and smiled bitterly.

It didn't go unnoticed by Remus. "I didn't mean it that way. It's not that I don't want you here. It's that I don't always want you to see me weakened."

"How do I know the difference? How can I tell when you don't want help."

"I tell you."

"You do," she admitted. "I just wish I could tell before then. So I don't have to hear that you don't want to have me around."

"What about this. Sirius and I used to do it. It was mainly for when we were out and around other people, but it could work for us too."

"Shoot."

"It's simple really. Eye contact, a hand up," he gestured as if say 'stop', "and a simple shake of the head."

"I like it," she agreed.

"I want to go shopping with you today," he stated.

"Are you sure you're up for it?" she asked.

"I just want to be with you today. Do you mind?"

She smiled and sat up, leaning on her arm. "I would like nothing more."


	46. A Village Mentioned

"It's all there," Remus said as he handed his contact the three vials. "But, the price has gone up."

"Oh? And, why is that?" the contact asked, uncorking and sniffing the blood.

"It's healthy."

"No such thing," his contact scoffed.

They had met in the alleyway behind the grocery shop. It was well lit, but private enough for private conversations. He had convinced Hermione that he wanted to catch up with an old friend, so she went to shop while they 'caught up'.

"Cast a spell on it. You'll see that all the numbers are in order. It's worth at least double."

His contact cast the spell and nodded at the numbers that appeared over the vials. "I'll give you double." He untied two pouches of coins from his belt and thrust them into Remus's hands. "I don't know how you do it Richard," he said. "You must have a werewolf in your basement or something."

"Or something," Remus said with a smile. "It's a pleasure doing business with you." He never had given his real name. Selling of 'creature blood' was an extremely underground niche. Vampire blood was the most potent and most popular. But, there was almost as much of a demand for werewolf blood. And, the proceeds could be most lucrative. However, if the blood was tainted or paid for in advance and not delivered it could be just as dangerous as the drug market.

"By the way," Remus added. "I have an additional two vials of the clean blood. It'll go for the same double rate… if you want it." His eyes twinkled dangerously.

His contact thought about it for a moment before nodding. They quickly exchanged the product for the cash and shook hands.

"Will I be seeing you again, Richard?" He motioned to the wedding ring. "It seems you have a nice life for yourself now. May be time to get out of this business."

Remus only smiled darkly. "Looks can be deceiving," he said before going back inside the grocery store.

He noticed that Hermione was on line, getting ready to pay, but that she bought very little. He recalled how much she liked peanut butter Ring Dings and Doritos when they were doing order work. Muggle food. He smiled fondly and doubled back to get the junk food that she had overlooked. In addition, he picked up a small chocolate cake from the baked goods section.

He got back to Hermione just in time ad plopped down the extras.

"Sweetie, I didn't pull out that much money," she replied, quietly.

"It's okay," he said putting money on the counter. "I've got it."

They were getting ready to leave when they heard someone calling their name.

"Arthur!" Hermione cried, waving excitedly. "How have you been?"

Arthur walked a little too briskly to be natural and hugged Hermione urgently. "We need to talk," he whispered. Straightening up at once, he shook Remus' hand. "Please come over for dinner," he offered.

"Hermione?" Remus asked, looking as though they had a choice. Everyone in the Order knew when the question wasn't poised as a question it was a demand, and not without reason.

She smiled brightly. "I'll cook dinner," she said, holding up the bags of food.

Arthur looked as though he had just put them out. "Well, I-I don't know."

"Dinner then," Remus concurred, putting his arm around Hermione. "The burrow?"

"Yea," Arthur said, absent-mindedly. "I have to do some shopping myself."

"Do you need us to come with you?" Remus asked, putting his hand on Arthurs' shoulder.

"Just you. Hermione why don't you go run along. I'm sure Ginny would love to see you."

Understanding that Arthur wanted to talk to Remus alone, she nodded and went to the apparition point.

"How've you been, Remus?" Arthur asked.

"Good," he said, as he followed Arthur back into the grocer.

Arthur picked up a few bundles of vegetables. "I hope you mean that Remus, because that young lady really seems to love you."

Confused, Remus followed quietly behind. "I am."

"Remus, we need you and Hermione to rejoin the group."

"Of course. Why? What's happened?"

"We thought that three months would be enough time for the two of you to. But, if it hasn't been, just let me know and we'll leave you be."

"Arthur, what's happened?"

"The breakdown has begun," Arthur answered, plainly.

"Really? Is there no one else who can help?"

"I've been, and the boys, and Ginny."

"And?"

"We can't do it, Remus. We need help."

"Is this a group home situation? Or…"

"I'm afraid so, Remus," Arthur said, picking up a few more items and heading towards the check out. "I'm sorry to do this, but it's going to take a village…"

"To heal a soul," Remus whispered. He felt nauseous. Hermione been at University for most of the last time a village needed to be formed. He was concerned about how she would take the news. And, worse, he was worried about how it would affect her.

Hp hp hp hp hp hp hp hp hp hp hp hp

"Hermione!" Ginny jumped up from the table as Hermione arrived. She ran up to hug her friend.

"Hey, Ginny," Hermione said, returning the hug. "It's so good to see you. Sorry I've been out of touch for a while."

"It's okay. Dad said that arranged marriages can be difficult in the beginning. So, what's it like being married to him? Still as promising as you had thought?"

"Better than I _ever_ dreamed!" Hermione answered. "He's a really good man. We've hit some snags, but certainly nothing relationship threatening." She knew it was a lie, but she didn't want to gossip about her husband.

"Did dad tell you what's going on?"

"No, just that he needed to speak with us. He's speaking with Remus right now, I believe."

"Hey, Mione," Remus said bounding down the stairs. "Have you heard about Uncle Sev?"

Author's Note: To understand the 'Uncle Severus thing, as well as the 'anyone else' comment made by Remus, you really have to read "Call Me Remus."

Ginny shook her head. "No. Dad's talking with Remus now. He told Hermione to come here."

Ron nodded. "I spoke to Fred and George. They're gonna stay at their flat in London. They say it's just easier to deal with business without the hustle and bustle of a village."

"That's fair," Ginny said, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm sure they'll be around."

Ron nodded.

"So, what about Severus?" Hermione asked. "I know he was mentally unwell, but that he went to a hospital or something. I haven't seen him since the second war. I must admit, I though he was dead."

Both Ron and Ginny rolled their eyes. "As Uncle Sev would say, rumors of his death have been wisely exaggerated," they said in unison.

Hermione giggled. "Okay, well how about I get supper ready while Remus and your dad are out?"

"Dad's getting dinner now."

"He caught us grocery shopping. So, I have more than enough. Let's surprise them," she said with a smile. She thought of Molly and wondered how long it had been since Arthur had a home cooked meal ready for him when he got home. She missed Molly and wished she was still around so that she could talk to her about Remus. Molly would understand, or at least have great advice. She always did.

Ginny lit up immediately. "I'll go put on tea," she said, going to the cupboard. "Dad likes it when he comes home."

Ron looked like he was going to go back upstairs when he suddenly changed his mind. "I'll pick some herbs from the garden. Be back in a bit."


	47. The Village Plan

Author's note: Okay, this is the last time I'll say it – I promise. In order to understand the odd backstory turn that this story is about to take, the best bet is to read "Call Me Remus". Otherwise, the next few chapters are going to seem very out of place.

Sorry, but it's the way my muses ran, and 40+ chapters have taught me to trust these guys. They haven't steered me wrong yet!

On with the show!

The Weaselys and Lupins sat at the table and dug into the meal put out by Hermione and Ginny.

Arthur groaned happily. "This is _so_ good. I don't remember the last time I had a home cooked meal waiting for me." He looked at Ginny and Ron, love shining in his eyes. "Thank you so much," he said, his voice little more than a whisper. "Your mum would be so proud."

Hermione smiled, as Remus squeezed her hand under the table.

Arthur turned to look at Hermione. "And I'm sure I have you to thank for sharing the recipe. I know this is not one of Molly's."

Hermione smiled.

"Actually, dad, it was Hermione's," Ginny started to say, with a guilty look on her face.

"Mother's recipe," Hermione finished for her. "I thought it fitting. I hope you don't mind."

She smiled at Ginny, who returned the smile.

"I'm honored then," Arthur said taking another bite.

Hermione had noticed that he had not seemed well at the grocer. But, now he seemed to be doing much better. She wondered how long it had been since he had a proper meal, or was relaxed enough to enjoy it.

She looked at Remus, who had been taking half bites of his supper. She wondered if he still felt unwell from that morning's cry. She lightly placed her hand on his knee and looked toward his plate when he acknowledged the touch.

He made eye contact, and raised a hand slightly.

She smiled, as she understood that he didn't need her to fuss. She would ask about it later, and make sure that he had a second dinner if he needed it.

When it seemed as though everyone was done, Remus got up to clear the table. He had long since gotten used to cleaning up after Hermione cooked and it felt just as natural to do it at the Burrow as it did at his cottage.

"Remus, please sit," Arthur said. "We need to discuss the village."

"What's the village?" Hermione asked.

Arthur and Remus made eye contact briefly before Remus took his seat next to Hermione.

"You've seen part of it before," Remus stated. "Um," a slow blush rose into his cheeks.

"You remember when Remus got so ill, when we were still at Hogwarts?" Ginny interjected.

"Of course," Hermione replied, gently stroking Remus' leg.

"And you remember Uncle Sev…"

"Of course! It rocked my reality."

"And you remember, the uh…."

"The woman with the purple eyes?" Hermione asked, knowing that the need for secrecy was great back then.

"Guess so," Ginny said. "Go ahead, dad. I'll clear up and get us some tea."

"Well there was another time when the Order got together to help someone heal – it was Severus again, and … well… me." He took a deep breath. "It took me a while to get … past… well to be able to continue living after Molly…" He choked back a sob and Ginny and Ron looked at him sadly. The loss of Molly left a hole in the family – that much was obvious.

Remus started to get up to help Ginny, but she wouldn't have any of it. "No, no, Remus. You just sit and rest yourself. I already know the situation. You still need to be briefed. Specific teas for anyone?"

"Spearmint for me, thanks." Hermione replied.

The others asked for their preferred tea and Ginny set to gathering the tea and supplies.

"To put it bluntly," Arthur began, "we need to create a village setting again. All of us, Z and Severus, under one roof to help Severus heal."

"Then it's begun," Remus said, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes. Apparently it began some time ago. But, Z is requesting assistance."

Remus straightened up. "What do you mean, 'requesting assistance'? How long has she been coping with this?"

Hermione felt like she was a child and the Order was keeping things from her all over again. But, this time she understood that all she was lacking was back story.

"Since the end of the war, Remus. Severus went to stay with her, to heal. Apparently, she thought he had, until about a month ago. His mood has been pendulum swinging and his body is in all sorts of disarray."

"Severus is sick?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione, when one is in a situation as tense as Severus was, it's expected that he would take away some mental scarring," Remus started to explain.

"He's having a breakdown," she blurted out.

"Yea," Remus said. Leaning towards Arthur, he continued, "What's the timeline?"

"She's requesting as soon as possible. We'll need Grimmauld Place, of course."

"You can have it," Remus said, with a wave of his hand.

"You know how Severus can be," Arthur continued.

Remus nodded, "Don't we all."

"But, he seems to be particularly hard on Z. She can't take it anymore Remus. She's called for the village to reform to help in the healing of Severus. She's threatening suicide if we don't."

A distant look clouded his eyes. "And, if we don't want to?" he asked suddenly.

The Weasely's looked shocked. It was obvious they had never anticipated that Remus would say he wasn't interested.

"I … what?" Arthur asked.

"What if we don't want to? I mean, I have a new life, and a wife. I don't want Hermione put in harms way."

"Rem!" Hermione snapped. "It's Severus. He's your friend. How could you just abandon him? And, if I recall correctly, when you last saw … Z… you were happy to see her. I'm willing to do this."

Remus sighed. "I suppose my mind has been made up for me then." He sighed again and that distant look came back into his eyes. "Has he hurt her?"

"She wouldn't tell me. But, I assume so. You know Z, she'll carry her scars to the grave."

Remus nodded. "And everyone elses. That's just not fair."

"I know. That's why we have to help her help Severus. Otherwise, we'll lose them both."

"Do you think … Z… will ever trust me with more than just a letter for a name?" Hermione asked.

"Anything's possible," Ron replied.

"But don't bet on it," Ginny said as she handed out the tea.

"Are they dating again?" Remus asked, seemingly out of the blue.

Arthur shrugged. "She wouldn't tell me that either. Just that she needs our help, and if she doesn't get it she is out of sound minded options and cannot be held responsible for what she does to remove herself from her current situation."

Remus swallowed thickly. "Oh Z," he breathed, feeling as though he were going to cry. He took a sip of his tea and Hermione squeezed his knee gently.

Taking a gasp of air, as if he didn't expect her tough, Remus inhaled his tea and started to cough.

Hermione patiently rubbed his back. But, when the coughing didn't subside, he moved away from the table. She went to follow, but he leaned against the counter and held his free hand up to her, his eyes pleading with her to stay back.

She did. But, she was not happy about it.

"So, when do we leave?" she asked Arthur.

"Do you have time to get there tonight?" he responded.

Hermione was about to answer, but Remus did it for her. "No!" he gasped, through the coughs. "No, Arthur, no… I will not… send her there… without knowing what's going on."

"You know Z won't let anything happen to her."

"I know no such thing. And I will _not_ put her in harms way."

"I'll go dad," Ginny offered quickly.

"And, I'll go with her," Ron added.

"And we'll go tomorrow night –at least to start bringing in groceries and such," Hermione added. "By the way, how does food allocation work?" she added as an afterthought.

"I suppose you mean paying for a house with seven people in it," Arthur answered. At Hermione's nod he continued. "Well, we all basically put in what we can afford and hope it's enough to make ends meet. Likely, it'll be you and I putting in the lion's share as we have the most stable and certainly the most well paying jobs of the lot. But, if you feel you cannot do that, both Z and Severus have money squirreled away somewhere that they have been living off of."

Hermione nodded. So much for leaving the Ministry – at least for now.

Finally, Remus joined them at the table, but he looked exhausted. He put his arm around Hermione's shoulder and nuzzled her gently.

Knowing he only got snuggly when he was either tired or not feeling well, Hermione took her cue. "We'll see you tomorrow. Send word if you need anything specific."

All three Weasleys nodded, and wished them well as they stepped into the floo.


	48. The Night Before

Remus paced the living room like a caged beast. Hermione envisioned the character Nightcrawler from the muggle movie X-Men that she and Harry had seen before his untimely death. If Remus could be jumping from wall to wall, she was certain that he would be.

"Rem, please if you're not going to sit, at least speak to me."

He took a deep breath and faced towards the wall. "You made a promise – for both of us – without understanding the implications. You saw…" he took another deep breath, "you saw Severus at his weakest. But, you've never seen him rage. Even at Hogwarts, he was always holding back." He turned to her quickly. "Yes, Hermione – always," he stated before she could come up with a witty retort.

"But, your friend – she's suicidal."

"Hermione, maybe it would be better if she just died," he responded darkly.

She gasped. "That's heartless," she whispered.

"Hermione, you do not know the pain and hell that she has been through. You do not know how much versatility and strength she has needed. You don't understand how tired she is."

"Like you."

"No. Her jobs, her pain – her very existence is so much harder than mine." He thought about whether or not he should tell her all about Z's past. But, he thought the better of it. "And, she never had someone kind, forgiving and wonderful like you to take care of her. The closest she ever had was Severus."

"He seemed okay, though. You know, outside of Hogwarts."

"And he was – for the most part. The two of them understood each other's pain better than anybody else. But, with her – he showed his most kind traits and his most abusive. And he did it because she would take it. He knew she would never leave, because no one else would ever understand her like he does."

"So, if she's threatening suicide… don't you think that means she's had enough?"

"But, it's not the end of their relationship, 'mione. Don't try to rescue her. Just try to help him."

"So… she's a healer?"

He nodded.

"So who heals her?"

He shrugged. "No one."

At her shocked look, he continued. "It's not that we didn't try. But, she was so far removed from us…"

"Did you know each other in school? I mean you knew Severus and Sirius there – is she part of that crowd, or at least generation? Or, is she younger… or older?"

Remus felt as if he'd been caught in some awful lie. "She was of our generation. But, I only sort of knew her."

Hermione seemed to sense his hesitation. "Rem, it was a different time – both culturally and in your life… heck, I was only a child… if you slept with her or even dated her, I don't care."

He closed his eyes and fought against a wave of nausea. "It's complicated."

"Is that why you don't want to help her?"

"No, I don't not want to help her – or Severus – I just don't want to put you in harms way – or make you shoulder this extreme financial burden. What kind of louse would I be?"

"My louse?" she teased.

He chuckled. "I'll always be your louse. But, I'm serious."

"Remus, let's do this. I know you miss the camaraderie of the old days. And, so do I. This may be the last chance we get."

"I still want you to talk to Arthur about taking that job at the bookstore."

"How about I interview for it first?" she asked, with a smile.

"I guess that would be logical. I just think you're a shoe-in for it."

She smiled. "Thank you for your support."

He smiled back and crouched down in front of her. "Thank you for your love," he said, kissing her lips softly.

HP*** HP

_"Well you said she was a muggle. So, if you want to go have a relationship with her, you can stay married to me." Hermione's voice caught. "You can call me a sick sister or something, and I'll still care for you during the moon. That way…" Her breath caught again. Just saying the words caused pain to course through her body. "That way, you won't be alone during the moon."_

Remus shook his head. The feeling of déjà-vu overwhelmed him. He smiled at his loving, but so emotional wife. "Thank you, but really I'm not that interested."

"You'd rather me teach her how to care for you during the moon? I don't know how a muggle would handle it, but okay. If that's what you want."

He shook his head a coughed harshly. "Not really."

"What do you want Remus?" she asked, gingerly.

"I want," he thought about Hermione's offer, and then about Sarah. The way Sarah knew exactly what he wanted, what he needed and how to talk with him. The way that she didn't bumble like a love-sick teenager, the way Hermione did when he was around. The way he felt connected to her, and wanted more than anything to make her his own.

"You love her," Hermione stated.

"I do," he admitted.

"I'll be out of your house by morning," Hermione whispered, as tears dropped from her eyes.

"Mione," he called after her.

"I promise, I'll be gone," she said, not looking back.

Hp hp hp hp hp

The smell of blood and excrement filled the house, and roused Remus from a dead sleep.

"Hermioine?" he called, but there was no answer. He hadn't actually expected there to be one.

He pulled himself out of bed and struggled down the stairs, falling down the last two.

He stumbled into the living room when he saw her, lying in a pool of her own blood, with a knife at her side. Her throat had been sliced from ear to ear.

"No!" he called out, harsh coughs barked out of him. He touched her blood soaked hair and felt sorrow unlike any since Sirius.

Hp hp hp hp hp

Remus sat up in bed with a gasp and a scream.

Hermione awoke instantly. "I'm here, Remus," she said before the terror and panic could set in. She had expected night terrors – this decision was huge and stressful. It seemed to be the way his stress manifested.

Without a word, he turned towards her and pulled her close.

She whispered, soothing words and rubbed her hands slowly over his body – making sure he felt her presence.

Finally, he took a deep breath and relaxed into her embrace.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be. You help me through my fears."

The nightmare flashed through his mind. "No, I cause them."

"No," she argued. "You sooth them during the day – and I sooth you during the night."

"Hermione?" he whispered, planting a kiss to the side of her head.

"Hm?"

"I love you," he whispered.

She went to return the sentiment, but he covered her mouth in a kiss, and she instantly forgot that she was going to say anything.


	49. The Briefing

Remus, Arthur and Hermione stood on the stoop of Grimmauld Place. Remus blew his nose quickly, again.

Hermione placed her hand on his arm and gave him an imploring look. "It's okay," he assured her. "Just stress." He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I really don't want you to be here."

"Remus, these are your family and my friends. I want to be here," she responded.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Fine… just… it's against my better judgement."

Arthur clapped his hand on Remus' shoulder. "We have to go inside. Hermione will be fine. She can take care of herself."

Remus took a shaky breath and opened the door.

He didn't know what he expected – perhaps the dust and cobwebs of a building long uncared for; perhaps a shock of brightly colored rooms – as if a rainbow exploded. But, he never expected it to be cleaned spotless and repaired. It almost looked like new house – updated and inviting.

"Ron? Ginny?" Arthur called, rattled by both the cleanliness and the silence of the house.

"Shh!" Remus hushed, listening for signs of life. Someone was cooking in the kitchen – the smell of stew and peppermint made that clear. Someone was pacing the upstairs, like a caged animal – presumably Severus. But, he couldn't hear anything that sounded like the Weasley kids.

"Do you seem me Remus?" Z's voice echoed off the walls.

All three wizards withdrew their wands and went into a defensive stance. "Show yourself!" Remus demanded.

"Come on out kids," the voice said, with a tone that held both humor and seriousness.

Both Ron and Ginny came out of the kitchen. "Can you see her dad?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked suspicious, but Remus and Arthur looked downright angry.

"Come on, dad, we found her," Ron said, a smile playing on his lips.

Hermione's eyes scanned the room and flicked up to the ceiling – which is when she saw her, scrunched up, seemingly defying gravity, perched on a small landing in the corner near where the wall met the ceiling. She smiled as a brilliantly beautiful, yet aging woman with long black hair and purple eyes winked at her.

She put her wand away and joined Ron and Ginny. "Come on, Rem. Use your head," she teased.

Remus' eyes flashed gold and narrowed. "Show yourself, Z. This isn't funny."

"I am in plain sight, old friend. You just aren't looking in the right places. Come on, use those heightened senses of yours," she answered. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Remus' nose twitch. Years of experience taught her that he was either utilizing those lovely wolf senses or he was going to sneeze. It wouldn't be dust – she kept this place as clean as possible: no mold, no dust, no cobwebs, no rodents, no live plants that could drop pollen, no strong smelling candles. She sighed. Remus was no longer hers to care for. That was Hermione's job now, and from what Ginny had said, she was good at her job.

Remus' head snapped up. "Gotcha!" he said, with a smirk.

She smiled and jumped down from her perch. "What gave it away?"

"The sigh. You didn't bounce the sound."

She landed lightly, obviously guided by a spell. She wore black stretch pants and a purple, long sleeved, v-cut tunic shirt. She walked tentatively with confidence, like someone who was ready for an attack, but didn't want to show it.

"Remus, my dear friend, thank you for coming. I'm sure you didn't want to," she said, embracing him and kissing him on the cheek.

He returned both the embrace and the kiss. He took her hands in his own and observed the perfect smoothness of her skin and her neatly manicured nails. "You know I'd do anything for you and Severus."

She pulled her hands away. "Careful about promises you can't keep. In this house, they may just be tested." She moved on. "Arthur, how are you?" she asked, taking her hands in his own, not unlike what Remus had just done to her.

"Managing."

"Good," she said with a smile. "Thank you for sending your children. They're not merely children anymore, are they?"

He shook his head.

"My how the years have flown. They have proven themselves well. I am proud of them. And speaking of pride," she turned to Hermione, "you have flourished over the past decade."

Hermione said nothing but gave her an odd look.

"Yes, Hermione, I have watched your transformation for many years. You've seen me about, but I make a habit of not being noticed. You are a … superb… mate for Remus, here. And, from what I understand, you make him very happy. Thank you." She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and invited everyone into the sitting room.

"Ron, Ginny and the twins were briefed last night, but the rest of you need to know what's going on." After she ushered them into the sitting room she asked Ron and Ginny to get supper ready.

"A glimmer?" Remus asked before she began.

"On the house? No. I put a whole lot of love and care into this. I, um, updated the kitchen, some fresh paint, fixed the cracks and roof… I hope you don't mind, Remus. I don't get much sleep anymore. So, I need something to take my time."

He shook his head. "No, in fact I'm indebted to you for it. But, I'm not talking about the house. I'm talking about you."

Z reclined back in her chair and stretched her fingers out. "Perhaps," she answered in a straight non-committal voice.

"How many?"

She thought for a second. "Seven."

"Is Hermione in danger?"

Hermione shot him a glare.

Z smirked bitterly. "I can't vouch for her safety. Severus is… fragile at best. He is trying to fight the breakdown. His violence is uncontrollable and sporadic. He gives no indication of the rage until it's happening. He generally remembers and is apologetic. He brews the potions to heal up any damage that is done. But, he's a moody bastard. And, he seems to catch cold oddly.

"Oddly?" prompted Hermione. She grasped Remus' hand.

"Comes on sudden, heals just as sudden. Colds generally last between 3 to 5 days and symptoms are general: fever, coughing, sneezing, congestion and fatigue."

Arthur bristled. "Has he gone after the kids?"

"No, dad, it's weird," Ron said coming into the room. "If he gets angry, he seems to direct it at Zia exclusively. Like last night, he and Ginny were talking and he got really angry real suddenly, and then all of the sudden he left the room to seek out Zia and unleashed on her."

Z looked scandalized. "Well, there you are Hermione. I'm sure you wondered what 'Z' stood for, no?"

Ron gasped, a blush rising in his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right. Hermione, now you know my name."

"But, not why you stay. Leave him… leave him to us. We can handle him."

"Aww… she's cute Remus. Severus and I have an unique relationship. I am the Order's healer. I have been working with Severus and Remus, and even Arthur here since before you were born. I understand the pain."

"So, why do you need glimmers if he's brewing potions?"

"It's like something muggles call drug tolerance. I have had so many potions over my lifetime that they no longer have any effect. Severus has been working on some that work. So far, only bone healers, headache draughts, and pain reducers seem to have any affect. So, as to not guilt him more than necessary or scare the heck out of you all, I use glimmers."

"Dinner's ready," Ginny called in.

"We'll be in in a minute," Zia replied. "He's having difficulty coping with many things – his war crimes, his reasons for following Voldemort, his cruel behavior towards you, Remus, his failing at providing for me after we got engaged and then for retracting the engagement – you know, anything that he's ever done wrong in his life – ever. And, there's a lot. You're going to hear confessions that he may or may not remember giving. And, you cannot turn him into any authorities or hold it against him. Remember, no matter what he tells you, he is the _same_ Severus as you love and are concerned about now. The only difference is that you will be aware of his crimes."


	50. A Unique Relationship

Everyone settled in at the dinner table and Ginny made eye contact with Zia. With a nod of her head, Zia alerted her that it was time to serve the meal. Without anyone asking, Ron got up and started to serve.

Zia smiled and leaned back. The night before, she had sat the younger Weasleys down and explained that the older generation would be mainly responsible for taking care of Severus, and that the younger generation would have to take care of them. She assured them that she would give them a lead, and that all they would have to do was follow it. She was immensely pleased when they took the task seriously.

"Good evening," Severus said as he came in the room and took his seat at the head of the table, with Zia to his right. "I see the troops have arrived. Zia, you didn't tell me that they would be coming tonight." His tone was healthy and proper, and the group smiled to see him in such good spirits.

Zia flinched away from him when he acknowledged her. "My apologies, Severus. I was not certain of the exact day."

"No matter," he said, giving Ron a half smile when he received his plate of food. "Thank you all for coming. I apologize in advance for any… " He closed his eyes and bowed his head. After he took a deep breath, Zia put her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fine," he whispered to her. He took her hand and kissed her fingers. Love, unlike most around the table had ever seen from him, shone in his eyes when he looked at her. He turned towards the rest of the table. "My apologies. As I was saying, I apologize in advance for any extreme moodiness, illness, or rage that you may wind up dealing with. I assure you, I will do my best to only attack Zia here. She and I have sparred for many years. She knows how I spar, and I trust her to be able to handle what I dish out."

She smiled sheepishly. "As I said, Hermione, Sev and I have a unique relationship." But, her eyes held no smile or pride in the role that she used to hold so dear.

Remus noticed and wished that he had better occlumency skills than either of them, or at least equal to them. He wondered if this was the reason she wanted help so badly.

"Hopefully, we'll be able to help you deal with that rage, some, so that you won't have to _spar _with Zia so much," Arthur offered.

He clapped Zia on the shoulder, "I'm sure she'd appreciate that. Sometimes I think I'm a little intense – even for her."

She winced. He had dislocated her shoulder in their last altercation and, even though she had been able to pop it back into place, it hurt dreadfully.

Severus looked at her critically. "However, I must add something. No one else is to hurt my Zia in any way. Or else you will answer to me."

"Sev, don't," she whispered.

"Nothing you need to worry about there," Remus assured him.

Severus gazed at him. "It isn't you that I am concerned about," he said. His eyes flickered briefly to Hermione and then back to Remus. He knew that Zia had been Remus' healer for over two decades. Now he had a wife, who, undoubtedly, would want to take over as his healer. If she didn't do it carefully, he knew that she would send Zia into a depression spiral – probably without even knowing it.

"We won't hurt her. It's you we're concerned about, Uncle Sev," Ginny said. She brought him a tall glass of cool peppermint tea. She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I'm glad you came down for dinner tonight."

He smiled brightly. "Me too. I feel lucky to have friends such as these."

"Family, Uncle Sev," Ron stated. "You have family here."

Severus smiled and nodded, unable to come up with an appropriate response.

Zia smiled and felt herself slide into a dream like state. She felt as if she was watching the scene through a bubble, and as though she no longer belonged to the world at the table. 'It would be so easy,' she thought. 'He has his family now. And, Remus has a wife to take care of him. My presence is no longer needed here. I could slip away and no one would ever notice.'

HP*** HP

"Did you see her, Rem? She looked positively terrified," Hermione stated as they got ready for bed.

Remus nodded, but said nothing. He knew she and Severus had a different sort of relationship. But, he never expected the sparring to turn into this level of abuse. Severus always used to be aware of the pain he caused, and help fix it. This time, Remus wondered if Severus had realized any of it at all. "I want to see her without her glimmers. I want to see the extent of her injuries."

Remembering back to when she was in Hogwarts, she asked, "Doesn't she always wear glimmers?"

"Not always."

Hermione nodded. "So the purple eyes?"

"Those are hers."

Hermione nodded again. "Was Severus always abusive towards her?"

"No.. they used to spar to get aggressions out. But, have aged, and from what I know she hasn't sparred with anyone in a very long time. So, likely, he is using a higher caliber of force and skill than she is able to maintain."

Suddenly, they heard it. Voices yelling. Remus opened the door and looked out into the hallway. He identified the voices as Severus and Zia and knew it was coming from their bedroom.

"You're weak!" Severus was yelling.

Her response was lower, but Remus' heightened senses could pick it up. "Yes, Severus get it out. Look at me and picture your mother… and feel it. Let it out."

There was some thumping and then more yelling.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked coming to the door.

"Therapy," he answered, ushering her back inside their room and closing the door.

HP***HP

The next morning, Hermione woke up early to make breakfast. Ginny had told her about the generational responsibilities and she was eager to help.

Hermione jumped back with a gasp when she saw Zia, asleep in a kitchen chair. It was obvious that she had slept there all night.

"Z?" she asked quietly.

Zia's eyes popped open and she gasped. "Where is he?" she asked instinctually.

"Severus is still asleep. Why don't you get some rest? Go upstairs, it's early yet. I'll make sure to call you when breakfast is ready."

"You're a good girl, Hermione. I see why Remus loves you so much." Without another word, Zia climbed the stairs and snuggled in next to Severus.

He moaned softly and kissed her on the cheek. "Time is it?" he mumbled.

"Early yet. Go back to sleep."

"Good session last night. Thank you."

She grunted in response. She was sporting many new bruises and a few cracked ribs. "I'm gonna need the bone healer."

"For what?"

"Ribs."

"When did you get so old?" he asked, without malice.

"Around the same time you did, I suppose."

"How can you love someone old and weak as myself?" It was an old question, one that they had been asking each other for years.

"I don't know. Pity I guess." It an old answer. One that they had been saying for years. But, this time, it hurt her. Deeply.

"I could leave," she said seriously. "You have your family now. I'm sure they could do a better job than I."

His arms wrapped around her tighter. "No one but you."

She smiled and paused, feeling sleep overtake her. "Severus?"

"Hm?" his breathing was deepening as well.

"Would you miss me if I died?"

"I guess. I don't really remember life without you. So I suppose I'd miss you," he answered, teasingly.

"You're a right bastard."

"Don't you know it."


	51. You Always Hurt

"Heh-Chuh-huh! Heh-Chuh-huh! Hempchtx!" Severus sat close to Zia, the only person he wanted to be near when she felt unwell. She sat quietly pretending to be reading the Malleus Maleficarum, with one hand comfortingly placed on his knee. But, really, she was feeling him out for illness. He wasn't running a fever, which worried her. She had long since realized that he had two tells to violence: cold symptoms without illness and raging fever without symptoms.

"Heh-Chuh-huh!"

"Bless you," she whispered, even though only Ginny and Remus remained in the house. Hermione and Arthur went to work at the Ministry. Ron went to work at the joke shop. Ginny was studying for her History of the Gnome Wars class and Remus was reading on the other side of the room.

Severus grunted his thanks and snorted. "Hempchtx!"

The sinking feeling of dread filled her and she wondered if he would talk to her with Remus in the room, or if she would have to leave the room with him, or if Remus would have to leave the room – and which option would embarrass him the least.

"Uncle Sev, really," Ginny said coming into the room with a tray of tea and sandwiches. "We've all heard you sneeze before." She set the tray down on the coffee table in the middle of the room. She poured a cup of tea and put a ham and tomato sandwich on a plate. She brought it to Severus and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "It must be awfully painful for you to stifle them like that." She put a clean handkerchief on his lap. "We're here for you, so just let it out." She placed her hand on his shoulder. "We love you."

He placed his hand over hers and gave it a small squeeze. "Thank you," he whispered. He smiled at her before a sneezy look crossed his face.

Instinctually, Zia pulled the plate and tea out of his hands and placed them on the end table, leaving him free to scoop up the handkerchief and sneeze heavily into it.

Ginny and Remus blessed him, while Zia put her hand on his shoulder – which he promptly shook off. She lowered her eyes to her lap and folded her hands in front of her.

"Thank you," he replied gruffly. He looked at Zia and nodded his thanks. Her eyes flicked up to him just in time to see it. She smiled sadly at him and lowered her eyes again. He put his hand on her leg, just above the knee. He remembered what seemed like a lifetime ago when he could touch her knees. But, they had long since been giving her pain – not that she would complain about it. Anything to make herself seem stronger to him.

A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. They had both been through so much in their lives. She had always given him a safe place to be weak, depressed, impassioned, or sick. He was allowed to feel both good and bad. And he had always treated her like a lady, made certain that she wanted for nothing – not touch, or fine things, or someone to care for. But, she looked so sad, there had to be something that he was missing.

"Excuse me," Zia said, abruptly. She stood and walked out of the room.

The other three watched her go.

"Is she all right?" Ginny asked the other two.

"I'm sure," Severus said, taking a sip of his tea.

HP ***HP

Zia snuck down into his lab. She knew that she shouldn't be there, but the pain had gotten too bad again, and she needed her purple potion. She smiled as she thought of how perfectly it had come out. Her last trip to St. Mungos had not revealed anything that she didn't already know. However, they did give her a recipe for a potion to reduce the pain.

She pulled the hidden drawer out from under the love seat. He had originally complained when she put it down in his lab, but he learned to enjoy her presence there – sometimes. She learned that she could hide things under the couch. She knew he could never see the potions, or else he'd start asking questions.

Fighting him had become so exhausting. Not being able to sleep was a side effect of the potion – and didn't help with the exhaustion. She downed a vial in one gulp and winced as it tickled her innards. She felt the cool tingling sensation as it stopped her internal bleeding.

"Z? Are you down there?" Severus called.

Quickly, she pushed the drawer back under the couch and ran for a bruise balm. "Yea, I'm here," she said, as she opened it and started applying it to her arms.

Severus came quickly down the stairs. "You know nobody comes down here without me!" he snapped.

She bristled. She knew that tone all too well. "I needed some balm," she replied as she put the jar back on the shelf.

He brushed past her and grabbed the jar off the shelf. He looked her over quickly. "From last night?" he asked, accusation creeping into his tone.

She was about to answer when Ginny called down. "Uncle Sev? Is she down there?" She started coming down the stairs.

He turned towards the door and bent over with another harsh sneeze.

"No…" he whispered in disbelief. He blinked rapidly.

"Sev, are you all right?" Zia asked. She reached for him, but he looked at her as if she was a total stranger.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"Getting balm," she answered honestly.

He back handed her, and shoved her against the wall. "Who are you! What do you want?" he bellowed at her.

"Severus!" Ginny yelled, running towards him. "Remus!" she screamed, for back up.

He turned and faced her. His features turned soft and he reached for her as if she was a ghost. "Lily?" he breathed. "Is that you?" he walked towards her slowly.

Ginny winced away as he took her shoulders, but he was gentle. "Lily, I didn't think you'd come."

She looked over his shoulder at Zia, who held her hand under her nose to catch the blood. With a quick charm the bleeding stopped and she motioned at Ginny to run with it.

"Of course I came," she responded.

Remus started to come down the stairs, but stopped when Severus growled at him.

"Stay away from her, Lupin. She is mine, not that idiot James'." He turned back to Ginny. "It feels like I've lived a lifetime without you. But, I seem to have a second chance." He lowered himself to one knee and took Ginny's hand into his own. "Lily Evans, you are my life. Your beauty and smile light my way. And with you," he looked at Remus, "and even your friends at my side, I swear I will not align myself with Riddle. I can derive strength from you. I have made many mistakes, but I will make them up to you."

Zia watched and felt her breath get stolen away. Like her, he had loved deeply before they came into each others lives. Unlike her, he didn't get a second chance at a relationship with his dear one. Although she understood that he was lost in a flashback, she couldn't help but feel hurt.

Ginny looked at Zia for guidance. When she nodded, Ginny smiled. "My dear Severus. I love you, but I'm not in love with you."

Tears welled in his eyes. "James?"

"No," she said, helping him up. "I'm just not ready for that kind of commitment."

Remus smiled at the way Ginny handled herself, but was concerned at the defeated look in Zia's eyes. "Z!" he whispered.

He silently snapped both of his fingers when she looked at him, and she nodded numbly. With a few quick glimmers, she morphed into a vibrant, young red head.

Severus nodded at Ginny. "Yes, of course. But, I love you, and I always will. Please remember that."

"I will, Sev. Always."

"Severus," Remus said, continuing down the stairs. "Why don't you talk to Jada? She's a very accomplished healer."

He turned abruptly and sized up the red-head. "I thought you were dead," he stated, skeptically.

"Rumors of my death have been wisely exaggerated," she replied.

"Excuse me, Lily," he said with a curt nod. It was obvious that his feelings were hurt. "Come, let's talk," he said tersely and led Zia upstairs.

Four hours later, Severus was asleep, sprawled across her lap. He had cried to her for hours about how much he loved Lily and how he couldn't live without her. He told her that he would never love again if he couldn't have Lily and that no other would ever make him as happy or be as accepting.

After he finally fell asleep, Zia changed back to herself. She cried silently as he slept and hoped that the whole of their relationship hadn't been false. She loved him, though she understood what it was to love someone else first. She and Remus had been engaged – when she really was Jada and before she had to go into hiding. But, after the identity change, they couldn't make it work between them and she fell in love with Severus instead.

"Maybe it would have been better if I had just died all those years ago," she whispered through her tears. "Then I wouldn't worry about if you loved me."

HP*** HP

Hermione, Remus and Ginny watched from the next room. They couldn't imagine the torment that Zia had to be going through.

"Who's Jada?" Ginny asked, handing Remus and Hermione a cup of tea.

Remus took a sip and sighed. "Jada was my fiancé. A very gifted healer, not unlike Zia."

"What happened to her?" Hermione asked, wondering why she had never been brought up before.

Remus sighed. He was loathe to lie to Hermione. But, he didn't want to spoil Zia's secret either. "The official story is that she died. But, some hypothesize that she went through an identity change. The world wasn't safe for healers then."

Hermione nodded and thought of how horrible it would have been if Zia was Jada – and she and Remus had to be apart for the sake of her life, his life or whatever the reason was at the time. Then she thought of how painful it would be if Zia then had to watch Severus declare his undying love for another – and hold him afterwards. Her heart ached for her.

"Remus, there has to be a way to end her pain," she pleaded.

With a sad smile, Remus shook his head. "Not until she dies."


	52. The Ones You Love

Zia awoke to the sun streaming in through the window and warming her face. She was vaguely aware of a hand on her head and clinking on the bedside table.

She went to grab the hand, but had her wrist grabbed instead. "Rest easy, my love. You had a rough night." Severus' voice soothed.

She smiled at the deep pleasure that his voice brought her. She felt like it was the old days, before…

She felt the bed divot where he sat beside her, and she pushed herself away from him.

"No, no no! No, no! It's okay," he rushed to soothe her. He opened his hands and arms towards her and let her take her time creeping back to him.

He handed her a cup of lukewarm tea, swimming in honey – just the way she liked it. She sipped it and smiled at him. "Sev?" she asked, slowly starting to look around.

"Hm?" he asked, taking her tea. He looked at the aging beauty before him. He didn't recall the day before, but Remus had informed him that it had been extremely emotionally draining for Zia. Before he started raging against Hermione for somehow inadvertently keeping Remus from her, he got more of the story.

"_You hit Zia, Severus. Back handed her and shoved her into the wall – at least that's what Ginny told me," Remus explained._

_He stepped back. He didn't remember it. _

"_She watched as you proposed and confessed your love to Ginny – who you thought was Lily."_

_He strained hard to remember, but he didn't remember it._

"_Then, when Ginny turned you down, she held you as you cried yourself to sleep."_

_He gasped. He couldn't imagine a worse pain to befall her. And, he had done it. He had hurt her physically and emotionally… deeply. How much more had he hurt her? How much more didn't he remember?_

"How did I get here?" She cleared her throat and swallowed against the swelled feeling in her throat. The blood.

"I carried you upstairs."

A flash of fear and then it was gone, replaced by shame. "I'm sorry, Sev," she whispered. She went to lay herself back down.

He had seen the flash of fear, and felt his stomach tie in knots over the look of shame. "No, my love. Sit up."

"Of course," she replied without looking at him. "It's too late to be asleep. I should be up… tending to you." She coughed and felt the taste of blood in her mouth. "How are you feeling?"

He smiled sadly. She used to be brighter, even when she was sad or angry. Her entire being had been dulled. What had he done to her? "I'll feel better when you take this," he said handing her a pink potion.

At her inquisitive look he ran his fingers through her long black hair. "Your nose was bleeding last night – and I couldn't rouse you."

She smiled brightly at him to mask how startled she was by the revelation. He had broken her nose the day before, which she had healed with a glimmer and a potion. But, sometimes there was leftover blood. "I'm fine," she forced herself to say.

"It's not like a bone healer, I know how the tingling feeling gives you the willies. It's just something to clean you out… without the gooey side effects."

She drank it quickly. It tasted like bubble gum. "Thank you," she whispered, as she felt the cool tingling sensation fill her nose and throat.

"Did I do it?" he asked. He needed to know.

She smiled sadly. "I should have seen it coming. Sometimes I fear that I grow too old for our sparring matches, Sev. I was never really a fighter – and I'm much slower than I used to be."

He frowned. That answer not only meant that yes, he did hurt her. But, that she was blaming herself and putting herself down in the process. He leaned over and kissed her, gently, on the forehead. "No, my love. My most sincere apologies for hurting you. I wish I could remember."

She could tell his apology was sincere. "I'm glad you can't," she responded. "It would just be one more thing for you to beat yourself up over."

"Better beating myself up than you."

She didn't know what to say.

"Zia, you are my heart – my life – I can't imagine living without you. Please believe that when I am of sound mind, I want no other."

Tears fell down her cheeks. "You do. You love Lily, as I love Remus. It's all right. I knew when I fell in love with you."

"Then why are you crying?" He picked up napkin and gently wiped the tears off her face.

"Because I'll never be strong enough for you. I'm old Severus. I've lived my life."

The intelligible sound of a strangled sob escaped his throat. "You can't believe that. I truly am sorry for any hurt I've caused you. I wish I could remember, so that I could properly make it up to you – or teach you how to counter the attacks."

Tears continued to stream down her cheeks. She wanted to believe him so badly it made her ache.

A hand rested just above her knee. "Talk to me," he pleaded. "I know that look of doubt. I'm just not used to seeing it from the glow of your beautiful eyes."

"How can someone as strong, and brave, and wonderful as you – ever truly want a broken down old healer like me?"

He dropped his head into his hand and she knew that she had pressed him too far. She had wounded him. "Sev, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. You choose who you love. I'm just lucky enough to be the reciprocant."

He looked at her. Tears were brimming in his eyes. "Rest. I'll be here for you when you awake, I promise. I'll watch out for you as you have for me."

He helped her settle in and lie down. With a careful kiss to her lips he started out the door. When he got to the doorway he said in a low voice, "I don't want any other."

To which she replied, "No other but you."

HP*** HP

Severus sat down at the kitchen table and tried to restrain his sobs.

Remus was certain that he didn't know that he was in the kitchen when he sat down. He watched his friend struggle to cope with his emotions.

"Is she awake?" Remus said, coming to the table and sitting down.

"Yea," Severus replied, not stopping the tears from falling.

"What did she say?" Remus prompted.

"She said she's too old for me. She said that she's weak, and that she's lucky to have me." After another strangled sob, he made eye contact with Remus. "Merlin, what have I done to her?"

"Severus, she's a healer. She's used to being treated poorly. It's part of the job – as she used to say."

"No," Severus argued. "It's different." He sighed heavily. "Even when I used to rage at her and threaten her, she would respond with just as much – if not more … alpha-ness. She never took any crap from anyone, least of all me."

Remus got up and got him a glass of water.

"But, now… now she molds her entire being around me. She apologized for being asleep and said she should be caring for me. Remus…" He took the glass of water and took a long drink. "Thank you," he whispered. "Remus, she bled so heavily last night, I thought she was hemorrhaging. I thought I was going to lose her. I was convinced. But, I can't take her to St. Mungo's." He sighed again. "And when I tried to run a diagnostic spell she has so many glimmers that I couldn't get a clear read. That's how I knew … how I knew she wasn't dying. She could keep up the glimmers. Remus… how injured is she? What is she hiding? I'm sure she told you."

"All I know is there are seven. And, that's only because I asked her directly, how many there were."

Severus looked at him, quickly. "How did you know she was using glimmers?"

"Two reasons really. One, she has barely aged in the past fifteen years. None of us have aged that well. And, two, her nails are perfectly manicured."

"But, nail polish doesn't stay on her nails."

"Exactly."

He choked back another sob and leaned forward, with his head in his hands. "Oh Merlin. This is worse." He sniffed wetly. "This is worse than when I pushed Lily away… when I lost her… when I hurt her. This is worse because I don't remember. I extinguished her spark, and I don't even remember." He stood up abruptly. "I need to go to the lab." He turned on his heel and was gone. awoke

Remus felt his heart ache. Before her identity shift, Zia was his. They were young and in love. He watched as she embraced another persona and felt himself fall out of love with her as her darker side grew. But, her spark never died and that was so beautiful. Zia without her spark would be like the sun with rays or rain without rainbows. Remus sniffed as he started to cry.

HP *** HP

The next time Zia woke up the sun had started to set. She gasped in pain and wished she could get down to the lab to take her potion. She coughed wetly and tasted blood in her mouth. She summoned her cane and slowly, painstakingly got dressed. She crept down the stairs, and smiled when she heard laughter.

Hermione and Ginny were having some girl talk time – that much was obvious. Remus and Arthur were in the dining area. From what she could hear, they were discussing articles that could be appreciated by both muggles and wizards. She didn't hear Ron or the twins, so she figured they were still working. The one voice she didn't hear, that she couldn't come up with a reason for, was Severus.

The floor creaked as she came into the hallway, and Ginny appeared in the doorway. "You're awake!" she exclaimed, the relief evident in her voice.

Zia smiled weakly. "Yes, thank you. I – um – I'm sorry for leaving you all to deal with Severus today. I hope he wasn't too much trouble."

"None at all, really. He was more concerned about you than anything else."

Zia leaned heavily on her cane. "What did 'anything else' entail?"

Ginny waved the question off. "You know Uncle Sev, he apologized for any discomfort that he caused me by thinking I was Lily and proposing. He apologized to Remus for worrying him – I'm sure you know Remus doesn't move so well anymore, so Uncle Sev wanted to make sure that he didn't hurt himself on the stairs to the lab, stuff like that." She paused, then added, "He did really talk to Hermione today. They seemed to connect on some level, but I couldn't hear what they were talking about."

Zia felt her strength leave her. He remembered the day before? But, he had said that he didn't recall it. Could he have blocked out only the pain he caused her, or was it a lie? She convinced herself that a lie to make her feel better was the more likely supposition.

"Z? Are you okay?" Ginny asked, moving towards her.

"I need a potion from down in the lab," Zia admitted. "But, Severus doesn't know about them. They're my own stash." She chuckled. "You know how over-protective he gets."

Ginny nodded. "Do you want me to get it for you? I hope you don't mind my saying so, but you look like you're about to fall over."

Zia shook her head. "I'll be okay. But, I need you to get him…" her breath caught as another wave of pain felt like it was crushing her bones.

"Distract him?" Ginny finished for her. When Zia nodded, she said, "Sure."

HP***HP

Zia knew that she had three minutes max. Ginny and Hermione had engaged Severus in a rousing discussion on cures for vampirism. It was Severus' least favorite discussion of all the incurable diseases. He would swish away from them and either retreat upstairs or down to the lab. Either way, her time was limited.

She pulled the drawer out from under the couch and gulped the potion down quickly.. Slowly, she felt the potion work and tingles spread throughout her body. When they ceased, the pain had eased. She went to ascend the stairs, but it was too late – she was busted.

"You're awake!" Severus exclaimed, happily.

"Yes, just getting a pain reducer."

"You know I would have gotten that for you," he said coming towards her and pulling her into a long and gentle hug.

"I thought you would be down here," she lied. She forced herself not to flinch in his arms. She remembered a time when it was the place she felt the most safe, and she yearned for that feeling again.

HP***HP

Severus put a pan of beef stroganoff on the table, and the clan dug in.

"Your favorite," he said as he took his place beside Zia.

"No, my favorite when you make it," she replied with a smile. They shared a look of intimacy and she dug in. The food almost didn't hurt as she swallowed it, and it was the first time in months that she didn't think that she was going to toss her dinner. "I've missed you," she whispered.

"I'm sorry. I know I haven't been myself. But, you've been so good to me. Thank you."

She smiled at him. Then turned her attention back to the table. She knew they were staring.

"Hermione, how's work?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"Dreadful. They still have me down in the file room and now not even the elves are allowed to help."

"Still?" Zia prompted.

"Ever since she agreed to marry me, she's been demoted and given hell," Remus interjected. "But, the money is good. And the flexibility with her schedule is decent."

"Sounds like it's time for a new job," Zia suggested.

"Yea, we could always use you at the shop," the twins said simultaneously. "

"We're always looking for a pretty face," George said.

"And a pretty girl," added Fred.

"So a girl with a pretty face is perfect," Ron finished.

The three of them looked proud of themselves.

"We'd give you as much time off as you need – but the pay's real low," George explained.

"Like free?" Hermione ventured to guess.

"Yea, something like that," George answered.

"Come on guys. One of 'em needs to earn a living," Zia cut in.

"Remus and I are creating a magazine, and it'll be his project. He'll earn us a fine living," Hermione snapped.

"Remus, I apologize. I meant no harm," Zia responded at once. She flashed a smile at Remus, but quickly lowered her eyes to the table.

"It's nothing, really," he answered, her response not being missed. "Z?"

When she looked up he smiled at her. She forced a smile back, but it wasn't the same. The spark was gone again.

The exchange was not missed by Severus either. He shot a glare at Hermione, but stayed his tongue when he saw the tear snake down Zia's cheek. Everything in him told him to protect her. But, something deep inside him told him that pushing away the support structure would do more harm than good.

"Zia, maybe you need a vacation," Arthur offered.

"Yea, with what money?" she snarked.

"Who needs money. You could go to the burrow for a few days. Rest, recuperate. We could take turns checking in on you. I mean… you've had a hard few months. A few days away could do you good."

She looked at Severus, who nodded his approval.

"I'd like that," she replied. But, I don't want it to seem like I'm abandoning you all."

"We'll come get you if Severus needs you," Ginny said, sensing her hesitation.

"Thank you," Zia replied with a smile. "I'd really appreciate that."

Severus ran a gentle hand through her hair. "You'll leave tomorrow."

"I will?"

"Yes, and you'll be back soon. You know that the sooner you leave the sooner you return."

"Of course," she replied with a smile. She leaned over and kissed him tenderly.

HP***HP

Hermione slipped into her nightgown and lay down next to Remus.

"Severus was really nice today," she whispered as she snuggled up to him.

He wrapped his arms around her securely. "That's the Severus we've known for years… and the one that she fell in love with."

"This must be really hard for her. Almost like a muggle dealing with a loved one with Alzheimer's – it's a disease that robs the patient of their memories and makes it hard for them to place where they are."

Remus nodded. "It's just like that. And, Severus and Zia have been through many levels of hell – both together and apart."

"I saw her crying at dinner. Was that my doing?" Hermione asked, after a long moment.

"No. Likely it was her own thoughts. She has a lot of them, you know." He pulled her tighter and kissed her on the cheek.

"I can tell… I wish she would talk more about it. I have the feeling she needs it. And, I get the feeling that Severus wishes it too."

"Honey, he doesn't know what he wishes right now. And, Zia knows that. She's trying to keep him from her pain. And, she's in pain… a lot of it. But, she knows if she lets him see it, his psyche will grab onto it and it'll just cause him, and ultimately her, more pain."

"I don't envy her," Hermione whispered.

"Neither do I."


	53. The Most

Zia stretched out on the couch in the burrow. Everything was so different than she remembered it. She closed her eyes and could almost hear the kids running about, Severus apparating in and out and Molly running the house, trying to keep it clean, be a mom, a hostess, and the best wife a man could ask for.

She took a deep breath and on the exhale released the glimmers that she was so used to holding on to. She looked down at her hands and winced. Everyone always seemed to forget how often healers used their hands, and hers were no exception. Normally looking manicured and lovely, they were really so weather and scar hardened that they looked tough as leather. But, her palms had it the worst. Years of defending herself from both physical and magical attacks had caused them to become rough as a day laborers. She smirked bitterly at how much Severus always said he loved her silky smooth hands. If he only knew.

There were other things he didn't know too. She didn't even need to look in the mirror to know that her long black hair was mostly grey now – having long ago passed the state of salt and pepper. Her eyebrows had been burnt off in a fire attack during the second war and never grew back. Her face was wrinkled and scarred, though not as rough as her hands. And her body, which Severus held with such loved and enjoyed remarking about the beauty of was filled out and sagging.

She was no longer beautiful and now she was no longer useful. Truly, he would never love her if he knew what years of being a healer had done to her. How could he? Everything he loved was a lie. And, if there was one thing that she knew he hated above all others – it was a liar.

She winced as a cramp bent her in half and stole her breath. She breathed slowly and relaxed in the fantasy that he would only see her as she was once – and that was at her funeral.

It wouldn't be long now, the doctors had told her. Six months at the most. She bowed her head into her hands and allowed herself to feel.

She felt afraid. She knew that she would die alone – the last few weeks would become so painful that there was no chance of her keeping the glimmers up. Then he would know that she was weak, ugly and old. That she had aged as all healers do – faster than their biological years. He would be angry that she had selfishly kept him for herself and not let him find someone more fitting to him. He would be angry that she had let her body deteriorate. He would be angry that she hadn't told him that she was sick. He would be furious that she didn't tell him she was dying. He would leave her, never to return. And, he would be justified.

She felt alone. She remembered hearing at Hogwarts that healers didn't tend to live a long time: either taken out by stronger wizards or mass attacks during wars or by the natural deterioration of the body, healers could expect to live into their late thirties, but no more. She had lived into her forties, lived two lives, taught at Hogwarts, fought two wars, and helped keep new Voldemort supporters from forming ranks. She dealt with her own depressions, fears, and insecurities alone – as was her burden as a healer. To that same end, this was her fate.

She felt relieved. She smiled, relaxed in the knowledge that Remus had found a suitable mate, and that there were enough people to take care of Severus in her absence. Hermione was a formidable witch. Her skills were second to few and she obviously loved Remus very much. She would be able to take care of him, and give him someone to look after in the process. She seemed to understand him and want to work to make him happy. Zia knew that her healing abilities and friendship would not be missed: she was not his only healer anymore. She had been replaced.

Better yet, Severus had his family back. True, Albus and Molly were gone, but with the rest of the Weasley clan and Remus and Hermione nearby, she knew he would never want for anything or anyone. They could handle him a damn sight better than she could. They made him laugh and feel secure. They loved him and accepted him for who he was and who he became, rather than who the world painted him to be. The two people she loved the most were taken care of, and that was what she needed to happen before she could die without guilt.

She sighed as a feeling of resignation washed over her. It would not be much longer before the truth about her medical condition was revealed. She rather fancied the idea of simply disappearing, but she could not worry him so. She knew he would be distraught if she just suddenly disappeared. But, when he found out the truth… she knew it would just be easier on her to disappear.

She closed her eyes. She could hear him yelling at her for lying to him. She could hear him yelling about her frailities and how he hated weak, useless healers. She could see him attacking her for the expressed purpose of making her attack back – to ignite the spark that she no longer felt. If she was lucky, maybe he would deliver a killing blow. It would end her pain so much more quickly, and give him the justification he would need to move on.

A tear trace down her cheek. In years past, she would have worried about Remus. But, much like Severus, he had no use for an ineffectual healer. Even after her identity shift, she had remained his healer and confidant. She had remained close to him through everything. But, now… now he had Hermione. He had the mate that Zia was never able to be. He had a chance at a real loving, mutually affectionate relationship. And, Zia was not about to ruin that.

She snorted as she choked back a sob. She remembered reading about healers from bygone days. All of the best died without anyone really noticing. That was the mark of a good healer – to be invisible until needed. And, with Ginny's knowledge of the back story and Hermione's seemingly endless abilities she knew that by the time a healer was needed again someone else would be there to step in.

It was the death she always wanted – not to die in battle, but to be able to drift away without anyone realizing. But, why did it hurt so much?

HP***HP

"Heh-Hmph-kesh!" Remus stifled.

Hermione looked up from her morning coffee. This was not the first time during the morning that Remus had sneezed. She sighed and knew that his run of health luck had run out. "You feeling okay?" she asked, tenderly.

He shrugged and stifled another sneeze. He plopped down in the chair next to her and forced a weak smile.

"Well that's a no," she whispered. She kissed him on the cheek to test for a fever – and sure enough he had one. "Do you want me to stay home today?"

"Nah. You've got enough going on with the Ministry. Ginny'll be home today. She knows how to care for an old pain in the arse like me." He gave her a lopsided grin.

"Lots of rest, lots of liquid?" Hermione prompted.

He nodded slowly. "Lots of touch…." He smiled and then realized what it sounded like. Before Hermione could comment he rushed on, "Lots of friendly touch… no… um… lots of _plutonic_ friendly touch…"

"Remus, relax," she said with a smile. "I know what you mean." She smiled to show him that she wasn't offended.

He sighed and rested his head on his folded arms. "I wish Zia was here," he muttered.

"Why?" she asked, rubbing small circles on his back.

"She was always exceptional at taking care of more than one sick person at a time. During the first war, she would soul heal and take care of the sick, and still find the energy to talk to whomever needed to."

Hermione smiled. "I wish I could have known her during those days."

Remus nodded. "Me too." After a pause he continued, "It's so hard for healers, you know? Always having to be there for everyone else – hardly ever taking time for themselves. And, they age so quickly – we've been lucky. Zia's been able to hold on longer than most."

"What do you mean, 'they age so quickly?' Zia's the same age as you all… right? I mean, she looks fantastic!"

Remus smiled at her bitterly. "It's something I want to talk to Severus about today, actually. Those glimmers. I'm wondering why so many – and if they are there to cover up minor defects – like scars or injuries – or if she's portraying an act to us that only Severus gets to see through."

At Hermione's confused expression he continued, "Zia hasn't aged a day in ten years – and with the use of glimmers isn't likely to either."

Hermione nodded. "But, I'm sure Severus has seen the real her, no?"

"That's what I want to find out. It could be why her spark is so extinguished. It takes a lot of discipline to run glimmers twenty four – seven."

"That's kind of sad. I mean, this is her family – why would she hide it?"

He gave her a wry grin. "Image," he replied honestly.

HP***HP

Zia slept soundly and dreamt of happier days. She smiled as she recalled her and Severus' first trip to Ireland. They had both escaped there to get away from pressures of the first war. They found each other in muggle hotel and hiked and dined and danced and really started to fall in love. She let her eyes linger over his young, handsome features and felt her heart swell with the love she felt then. She reveled in the feeling and felt herself swoon in the gaze that she later found was love.

A footstep and floorboard creaked.

That was not part of the memory. Her eyes snapped open and she summoned her wand. In years past, she would have jumped to her feet, but she didn't think she would be threatening after she collapsed on the floor.

"Hey, everything okay?" Ron asked. His hands were opened, showing her that he was not armed and not threatening.

She took a deep breath. "I could have killed you."

He gave her a crooked smile. "I trusted that you wouldn't."

"That's a lot of trust."

He smiled and shrugged. "Good as that was the point." He raised an eyebrow as he looked her over. "Your hair is grey."

She felt like a rock landed in her stomach. "Zounds," she swore under her breath. "I'm sorry, you have never seen me in my true form. I'm sure my looks must be shocking."

"Not really," he answered with a shake of his head. "You know, we can dye your hair so that – you know – so it grows in black. Then it's one less glimmer you have to worry about."

She shook her head. "Severus can always tell when I dye my hair – and then he gets cranky. It's a very specific shade apparently."

Ron chuckled. "Well we wouldn't want him to be cranky now would we?"

She shook her head.

"How are you doing otherwise?" he asked.

"Tired," she replied simply.

"You look it. Well, take a nap – sleep as long as you need. Dad'll be back after work with some dinner for you."

She laid down on the bed. "Thanks," she replied. Then quickly she sat up. "Don't tell anyone else you saw me this way – not even Severus," she barked at him.

"That's none of my business. And, before you ask – he wasn't up by the time I left. My hypothesis is that he's going to try to sleep today. You know – without you there to keep him going."

She felt her heart twist. "Yea, because that's what I do. I can't even spar with him anymore."

"You do keep him going, Z. You may not see it, but he is comfortable with you – secure when he's around you. And, he looks at you with such affection." He cleared his throat as he felt it catch.

"You're sweet," she replied. "But, he only does that because he's deluded himself into thinking I'm strong enough to be loved by him." She felt nauseous and wished he would just leave so that she could take her potion.

"You are," he responded. "And the only one who seems to be delusional about that fact is you."

"I'm tired," she whispered.

Understanding that the conversation was over he nodded. "All right. Rest well."

HP***HP

Remus groaned miserably. He was certain that he had felt worse in his life, but he couldn't quite remember when. He had been spoiled by Hermione. Her talents had kept him well for two solid weeks. But, the moon was beaconing again. And, even she could not keep him from feeling it's call.

"Hemph-cchhh!" he stifled as Ginny walked into the living room.

She looked at him funny and poorly contained her smile. "Remus, why are you stifling them like that? Please, don't say it's for my benefit."

He looked at her, and opened his mouth with another impending sneeze.

"Don't think on it," she said, kindly as she sat down next to him.

"Hep-heh-KESSH!" he sneezed wetly into his handkerchief. He blew his nose fully and groaned again. "Dodn't sit too close. Dodn't wandt you catching this." He sniffed stuffily and coughed.

She looked him over sympathetically. "Remus, why don't you go to bed? I'm sure no one will mind."

He coughed again. "I have to talk to … to…heh-." Another wet sneeze and miserable groan, "to Severus. Id's impordand."

She shook her head and patted his knee. "I'll get you some tea. And, then I'll go wake Severus. You know he won't come out if Zia's not here. No sense in staying awake if he's not coming down."

"He's already come down. But, he didn't want to talk. He's in the lab. You know I can't go down to the lab like this." He sniffed again.

Ginny observed his too pale complexion and his red rimmed eyes. The congestion in his voice seemed to get worse by the minute, and each sneeze seemed wetter than the last. It was only another week until the full moon would transform him again. She fretted that the transformation would kill him if he didn't start to recover before then. "Fine. Then I'll call him now and make you both tea. Ginger mint sound good?"

He nodded and felt the world bob out of synch. "Sounds lovely. Thank you." He coughed and wished that Hermione was with him. He wanted nothing more than to take her to bed and curl up in her embrace.

He winced as he heard Ginny stand at the door at the top of the stairs to the lab and literally call down to Severus that Remus wanted to talk to him. He knew that the man was probably concentrating and that she caused him to ruin whatever he was working on.

"What is it, Remus?" Severus all but snapped as he came up the stairs. "But then again," he added silkily when he saw him. He folded his arms and walked slowly towards Remus. His eyes narrowed in observation. "A sick werewolf is as good as a weak healer really… do you know what they have in common?"

Remus knew the answer. He could also tell by the look in Severus' eye that he was in the middle of a flashback. "No," he answered quietly. He fingered his wand and wondered if he should petrify Severus immediately or wait and see what happens.

Severus leaned in close and eyed Remus with a contempt long passed. "They're better off dead."

"Step away from him, Severus." It was Hermione.

"And why should I?" Severus asked, turning his back to Remus. He eyed Hermione suspiciously.

"Because I said so, you impertinent prick. Remus has not done anything to warrant your anger. And, you will apologize."

Ginny came in with several cups of tea. "Hermione came home for lunch. Isn't that nice?" she asked, speaking a little too quickly. She sat down next to Remus, prepared to petrify Severus, provided that she could cast the spell fast enough.

"And why should I apologize?" Severus repeated, as though Ginny had never spoken.

"Because he's your friend, and because I demand it," she replied.

Severus broke out into a smile and rushed her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the head. "Oh, Zia," he laughed, "I have missed you. Where have you been?"

"What?" Hermione asked, confused. She tried to back away, but he wouldn't let her go.

"I don't know what weak invalid you were trying to pretend was you – but that weakling can't hold a candle to you. Oh, I've missed you."

Realizing that he wasn't completely out of his flashback, Hermione hugged back. "I've missed you too, Sev. But, I couldn't leave you all alone. That would never do. So, I found another healer –."

"A weak, poor excuse for you," he said, kissing her on the top of the head. He took a step back and gazed at her with such love that Hermione felt both guilt and sorrow at once. "No one could ever take your place, Zia. That healer is ready to die. But, you… you're still beautifully alive." He smiled and pulled her close again.

Hermione smiled uncomfortably, but held on until he was ready to let go.

HP***HP

Hours passed and Severus slid out of his flashback. Hermione had gone back to work and Ginny spent most of the time trying to convince Remus to take a nap until dinner.

"Uncle Sev, will you talk to Remus so that he takes a nap?" Ginny asked, desperation leaking through her voice.

Severus observed his ailing friend. "Remus, take a nap. We'll discuss whatever it is you want when you awaken."

"No," Remus responded a little too forcefully. "Sev, Ginny… this is the start. Likely it'll only get worse. Both of you know that." He paused to sneeze forcefully, twice.

Severus nodded with a sigh. "Ginny, would you mind going to your room for a bit so that we can talk?"

"Not at all," she replied. "Do either of you need more tea?" she offered as she got up to go.

Both of them graciously declined her offer and watched as she left the room.

"Ah, to be so young and beautiful. She's going to have a charmed life, I can tell," Severus said with a smile.

Remus did not smile back. "Speaking of age, beauty and charms…," he paused.

"What? You need to know how to make yourself look younger for your new blushing bride?"

Remus sneezed wetly and blew his nose quickly. "Hardly. I'm asking about Zia."

"What about her?" Severus responded defensively. "You think she needs beautifying charms? What? She hasn't aged well enough for you?" His eyes were cold as ice as he worked to reign in his anger.

"Too well," Remus replied, shortly. "Severus, she's barely aged at all. In normal circumstances she should look older than her age. A healer with all her experience… should look…" He sneezed wetly and continued on, "at least twice her age. As it is she looks like she's barely forty." He tended to his now dripping nose.

"You think she's using glimmers? Why would she?" Severus asked, quietly.

"Because she doesn't want to lose you," he replied simply.

"Lose me? Why would she worry about losing me?"

Remus looked at him incredulously. "You're kidding me right?" When Severus shook his head he continued. "Zia has been more than kind and understanding to your mood swings over the years. Why do you think that is?"

"Because she loves me… and loves that I love her… or at least that's what she tells me. Do you know of something different?"

Remus shook his head. "She loves you. But, she's afraid you'll leave her if she's not perfect. I remember years back when you said, under the effect of potions, that she had outgrown her usefulness."

Severus' heart twisted. "I don't remember that," he whispered.

"And, she never held it against you. But, she did hold it against herself."

"I'd never tell her that!" Severus retorted angrily. "I love her!"

"No, you love being loved by her," Remus accused with the purpose of drawing him out.

It worked.

In an instant, Severus was on his feet and lifting Remus by his shirt. "You lie! I love her! I always have. I'd do anything to protect her. Anything! I want no one else."

Remus sniffed and his breath hitched. He squirmed uncomfortably. He didn't want to sneeze in Severus' face, but he knew better than to demand anything of the man when he was in this state. But, as the impending sneeze tickled his nose more, he knew he was running out of time. "Put me down, Severus," his whispered, urgently.

Severus released him and started to pace the floor. "What are you playing at Lupin?" he asked, angrily.

Remus sneezed so hard he shuddered. As he blew his nose, he was relieved that Severus had let him go. Had Severus caught this, he would have been even more miserable for Zia to care for.

"Bless you," Severus said, absent-mindedly.

"Severus, how often has she had to hear that a weak healer is as good as a dead healer?"

Severus shrugged. "Countless. She's the only healer I've ever trusted. She knows that – and why."

"So, maybe she doesn't want to show you she's aged."

Severus stopped pacing as the thought hit him like a ton of bricks. "You think she's hiding her aging from me."

Remus nodded. "She doesn't want to spar anymore. She hasn't aged. Think about it, Sev."

Severus looked as though he had received a physical blow to the stomach. "No… she has to know… I love her. I…." He sat down heavily and looked at Remus. Tears were brimming in his eyes. "What else has she hidden from me?"

HP***HP

Ginny smiled sweetly as she brought Zia dinner.

"What happened?" Zia asked, not buying it for a second. She had rested for most of the day, and felt beautiful again under the guise of her glimmers. But, she was not distracted from reality.

"What?" Ginny asked innocently.

"Ginny, I know you. You're no innocent. What happened?"

"Well," Ginny started, taking a seat at the table with Zia, "a lot has happened since you left."

Were it any other group of people, Zia would have asked how much could happen in less than twenty-four hours. But, knowing the group as she did, she was hardly surprised. "Spill it," she ordered, not touching her food. She assumed that she would be eating with the group anyway.

"Well – Remus woke up sick."

"Poor thing. Well it's about that time of the month. Did Hermione stay home?"

Ginny shook her head. "She came home for lunch, but I've been caring for Remus."

Zia nodded. Had she not been in the Burrow, she would have wondered why they came back for her at all. "And," she prompted.

"Uncle Severus is distraught." She had been trying to come up with a way to describe what had happened over lunch in a way that wouldn't be hurtful. And, she was trying to find a way to describe that Severus had been pacing angrily about the house ever since Remus planted the seed in his head that she may have lied to him.

"And?" Zia prompted.

"I don't know how to say this," Ginny admitted.

"Just blurt it out. Trust me, my child, you cannot hurt me."

"Uncle Sev has a flashback this afternoon. He thought that Hermione was you."

Zia gasped. "Oh dear Merlin. Is she all right?"

"He didn't attack her or anything. He … he embraced her. He looked like he was going to attack Remus and she stopped him. He thought she was you."

Zia nodded. "That makes sense. I hope he didn't hurt her – or make her too uncomfortable. What about Remus, is he okay with it?"

Ginny smiled. "He was very gentle… like he is with you when he isn't acting like he wants to kill you."

Zia nodded. She had heard enough. "All right then. I'm coming back tonight." She stood up. "I'll eat dinner with you. Grab the plate please."

"But, wait, there's something else," Ginny stated, urgently.

"Whatever it is I'm sure I'll hear about it. Thanks for trying to give me a place to retreat to. But, my place is at his side."

Before Ginny could say anything else, Zia stepped into the fireplace.

When she appeared on the other side, Hermione and Remus were sitting on the couch. One look at him told her that he should be in bed.

"Remus, go to bed," she ordered.

He nodded. An odd mixture of relief and fear twinkled in his red-rimmed eyes. The flush in his cheeks was splotchy and his nose was raw. He was far too sick for something that set in this morning.

"Zia, careful," Hermione warned. "Severus is on the war path and he wants your blood. Let Remus stay. You may need his protection."

"Protection?" she asked.

"Zia have you been lying to me?" Severus' silky voice cut into the room.

She shivered. He was angry, and she wondered if he was flashing back. "Of course not. I would never lie to you." Turning to the couple on the couch she hissed, "Remus, what is this all about?"

"Remus brought to my attention that you have hardly aged at all in the past twenty-five years. And, he's right. We've all aged – even you… a bit. But, healers age faster… so you've been hiding yourself from me. Why? What is it that you think I'll do? What do you think I'm too weak to handle, hm?"

Tears glistened in her eyes. "Remus, how could you?" she whispered so quietly that no one else in the room would be able to hear. "I don't think you're weak, Severus. I'm weak. I'm old. And, as you always say – a weak healer is as good as a dead one. I didn't want you to leave."

"Bullshit!" he spat at her. After quickly pacing the floor he added, "Prove it! Prove it now! Show me what's so horrible that I would stop loving you after all these years!"

She shrunk away from him as if he was going to hit her.

"Severus, breathe. You're scaring her," Remus said, gently. He put his arm around Hermione and pulled her close.

Zia watched as Hermione pet his leg gently. How could she have thought things would be better when Severus confronted her? Everything would have been better if she had just disappeared. With a quick quivering breath, she dropped her glimmers, one by one. First her hands, then the scars, her face, her hair… everything.

"Dear God!" Severus exclaimed. "You've hidden this all from me? For how long? How much else are you hiding?"

Tears spilled down her cheeks and she considered her options. "Not much else," she answered honestly.

"Zia, you're my _wife_ you swore that there wouldn't be any secrets. You _promised_!"

"I promised there would be no secrets to your detriment. How does allowing you to be blissfully happy do that?"

"I can't love someone that I don't know," he hissed. He spun around and stomped out of the room.

Zia sunk to her knees. In an instant, she felt like her life had fallen apart around her. Again. Just like the last time Severus had left her – and the time before that.

"Z… I'm sorry," she heard Remus say. She heard a groan and some footsteps towards her.

"Remus, please just stay back," she ordered. The footsteps stopped, but didn't retreat.

"He called you his wife," Ginny said.

Zia nodded, and pulled her necklace out from under her shirt. "We were married just before the second war. We both wanted the other to receive anything we left behind, and we've been together since the first war – so we thought it made sense." At the silence in the room, she continued, "He gave me the mystic topaz necklace I always wear. I gave him a silver band that he tries to wear when he's not in the lab."

"Hey everybody. Sorry I'm late," Arthur said brightly as he walked into the room.

"At least it won't be for long," she said through gasping breaths. In an instant, she apparated from the room.


	54. Bringing Her Home

Severus sat in the darkness and listened to his old friend's congested snores. After he had left Zia crying on the floor, Severus had locked himself in his room for what seemed like hours. He was furious that his love, his _wife_ had lied to him like that. Then he became annoyed that no one had checked on him. After a while he realized what he was waiting for: he wanted Zia to come check on him. About an hour after his blow-up, he hear Hermione and Remus come up stairs then, after a short while heard Hermione's light footsteps descending the stairs. He held his breath and hoped that Zia was with her.

In the years of the war, it was one of her tricks to accompany someone near the injured – physically or otherwise – party, listen in – either physically or telepathically – and then make a judgment call on what her next plan of action would be.

In this case, he found himself holding his breath and wishing for her light knock – three times and positioned low on the door. When he didn't answer, she would quietly step inside. She would call his name, softly, and hold back to see if he was going to openly accept her or not. When he didn't turn to face her – more from his own shame than anger – she would step softly behind him and wrap her arms around his shoulders. After she placed a quiet kiss to his temple she would whisper she was sorry and his heart would ache. Gently, ever so gently, he would place his hand over her arms and weep. And, she would hold him in silence – as was her duty as his healer and her right as his wife.

But, none of that came. Hermione's steps retreated down the stairs and there was silence. Well, mostly. The little twit had placed a spell on Remus' room so that she could hear every cough and sneeze. He hoped that she had the sense to set it to remove when he began to snore.

He thought of his Zia holding him. He thought of her beautiful face. Her face…

Severus roared – his yell much more guttural and animalistic than that of a man. She had lied to him! To him! In a flash of rage he went over to the dresser, which held pictures of the days when they first met – pictures of the two of them dancing, hugging, laughing. He looked at her beauty and in one motion swept the pictures off the dresser. One of the frames merely flattened on its back – as if taunting him. The picture was of he and Zia being re-united after the trials from the first war. Albus had thought it sweet to take a picture of them rushing towards each other and into the embrace.

Rage flooded him and in one swift motion he yelled, "Deceiver!" while tearing the picture in half. Both he and Zia (in the picture) looked quite put out and tried to move through and around the tear to reach each other.

Suddenly, Remus' incessant sneezing and coughing ceased and he started to snore. And then, silence. He knew there was only one person who could help him sort out his thoughts and so, much more quietly than he was used to being, he crept into Remus' room and sat vigil over his friend.

HP***HP

Hermione listened up the stairs. "He's snoring now," she stated more to herself than to the room. She removed the spell and let her husband sleep with dignity.

Arthur took a deep breath and leaned back on the couch. He'd had a positively awful day at work, and his head was throbbing madly. He had hoped to come home, get some tea, a good dinner, maybe be able to sit down and talk to Zia and head to bed early.

Hermione got the group dinner and Ginny set him up with tea. "Now, explain what I walked in on again."

Hermione sighed and took a seat next to him. "Zia has been using glimmers to make herself more attractive."

"Of course she has," Arthur replied. "No healer ages that well."

"Well, apparently Severus forgot that fact. Or never thought on it."

He nodded slowly. "But, why would she lower her glimmers? Why would she egg him on like that?"

"Egg him on?" Ginny asked.

"You both know that Severus has been unwell. Zia knows what he's been through more than any of us. He's always been attracted to her the way she was fifteen years ago, so it makes sense that she retained those looks. Why would she drop them to him now?"

Hermione blushed. When Arthur put it that way, it made so much sense. "Well Remus confronted Severus to make sure that he knew they were probably glimmers."

"Why?"

It was a simple question, but nobody knew the answer to it. "I don't know. I only know that it was very important to Remus that he talk to him."

"It makes no sense," Arthur said with a shake of his head.

"Remus cares about her."

"Of course he does. But, that doesn't give him the right to meddle. In fact, it gives him less of a right."

"Well, apparently Severus didn't think about the glimmers. He got really angry, so we brought her back to calm him down."

Arthur said nothing, but shook his head.

"When she got here, he confronted her about the glimmers and asked her to lower them. She was the shadow of the woman we see her as, and Severus sort of lost it. He called her a liar and raged at her. It came out that they're married…"

Arthur nodded. He was not surprised by either revelation, and couldn't figure out why anyone else was. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and wished Zia was there. She always knew how to take care of his headaches. "And you say Remus is asleep?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. And, he needs it. This cold set in him so fast."

Arthur nodded. Remus was used to that sort of thing. He had always handled it well alone, though he was happy Hermione was there to take care of him now. His eyes twitched and he knew a massive migraine was beginning.

HP***HP

A whisper in the darkness.

A quiet shuffling.

The bed moved slightly.

"'mione?" Remus groaned.

"No," a low silky voice responded. "I need to speak with you."

"Severus," Remus breathed. "This is not a good time." His head throbbed with pressure and now that he was conscious he felt miserable.

"Did I make a mistake?"

Remus squinted his eyes open, but could not make out a form. Had it been during one of the wars, he would have fought defensively. But, as it was, he was too exhausted to contemplate it. His eyes slide shut again. "About what?"

"Should I have embraced her?"

The answer was simple. "Yes."

"You didn't."

The statement hit Remus like a physical blow. He was about to reply when, "Hessh-kessshew!" the sneeze was itchy and embarrassingly wet. He had tried to raise a hand to stop it, but his reflexes were off. He started to cough deeply and felt a gentle hand with a handkerchief wipe his nose. For a moment he thought it was Hermione or even Zia.

Severus winced as the sneeze sprayed his chest and chin. His night vision had dimmed over the years, and he misjudged how close he was sitting to his old friend. "Bless you," he mumbled after he cleaned up his friend's nose and mouth.

"Nuther one," Remus warned, his breath hitching.

Severus scooted himself away just before another sneeze ripped from his friend. This one was louder, wetter, and more forceful.

Remus moaned and let his friend clean him up again. "Whaddau wandt Severus?" he asked, miserably.

"How did you get over her?"

Remus shook his head in disbelief, but Severus only detected a slight movement. "Took years," he admitted honestly.

"But how?" Severus asked, sounding as miserable as Remus felt.

"Sev," he coughed a few times, "it was different. Times were scary. It was a first war. Jada had to turn into Zia in order to save her life."

"But, you became her friend again. Was she easy to get over?"

Remus sighed, and moved to sit up. "You oversimplify it. Zia didn't just change her looks. She changed her whole personality. When I agreed to remain her friend, I had to get reacquainted with her. Her personality was darker. She was not my Jada. My Jada died. Simple as that." Remus sneezed wetly into his elbow.

Severus sighed roughly. "She lied to me."

"No. She gave you the life you always wanted. And, Sev, you didn't always deserve it. You were not always good to her. But, she loved you and gave you everything you wanted."

"I was good to her," Severus retorted angry.

Remus' eyebrows shot up in the darkness. "Yes, for the most part. But, sometimes… sometimes Sev, you were a cold hearted bastard. You liked her being young and beautiful, so she remained young and beautiful." When Severus replied with silence he continued with another tactic. "Severus, do you remember your wedding vows?" Having not been there himself, he knew he was toeing a fine line.

"Of course."

"What did you promise her?"

A deep breath and a pause. "I told her how much her devotion means to me, and promised that I felt, though I don't always show the same devotion. I admitted my love and told her that she was the light of my life. I told her that I would not deny her anything that would make her happy, and," his breath hitched, "that I would show her the same acceptance to her secrets that she's shown to mine."

Tears welled in Remus' eyes. It was the vow that she deserved. He could only imagine the joy she felt that day. The stark contrast to what she had to be feeling as they spoke broke his hear. Unfortunately, the tears plugged his nose. "Heskeplew!" he sneezed violently into his elbow. He felt Severus hand him a handkerchief, and cleaned himself up.

"I broke my vow," Severus said sadly. "I didn't accept her secret with the same love, dignity, and respect that she's accepted mine." After a pause and a wet sniffle he added, "Where do you think she went?"

"Home, I suppose."

"Well that's going to be a problem. I haven't been there in a while."

Remus understood. Zia's chances of survival made her paranoid. She changed her cottage frequently. The only thing that didn't change was her bed position. Which meant that 'dropping by' was not acceptable. He smiled as he thought of all the times he, and likely Severus, had be petrified for trying.

"I don't know what to tell you," Remus replied.

"Rest my friend," Severus responded, and helped Remus lay back down. "I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"Severus!" Remus reached out and grabbed him by the arm. "She loves you. Don't throw it away over something like this. She changed her looks. That is all. She is still the same Zia you loved yesterday."

Severus hung his head in shame, happy that the other man couldn't see it. "Thank you," he replied humbly.

HP***HP

Zia settled herself in a cocoon of blankets and settled in front of a warm fire. She sipped her tea and focused on the pictures on the mantle. Her and Severus laughing when they were in Hogwarts. Her and Severus at the last Christmas Order party that they were both able to attend. A picture of him laughing hysterically at something – she had long since recalled what. The one picture of their wedding, which showed such love and devotion from both of them, that she never showed it to anyone. She wanted to gift a copy of it to him for their five year anniversary. Two tears dripped down her face as she realized that they wouldn't make it that long.

Pain gripped her stomach and she saw stars. Not that it mattered. Even if he hadn't found out about her glimmers, she wouldn't have survived the year.

She sniffed wetly, feeling selfish as she let herself know what she had wanted the whole time: for Severus to be there, holding her hand, and Remus to be standing behind him – viewable over his shoulder as she drifted away. She knew it wasn't the way a good healer died, but she had wanted that to be her reality for so long that she almost believed that it could happen.

She looked at her hands, old and worn from use. Once upon a time she had a friend named Kelly. Kelly had been in Hufflepuff and even though she wasn't a healer, she understood them better than anyone she had ever met. She remembered talking about the quick aging process of the average healer and Kelly's response, "The look of a healer is directly in proportioned to the amount of love they gave. The aging process is what love looks like."

Zia smiled. She had given a lot of love. And, she had taken it for granted that the love would be there in return. She should have known better.

With the medication, she was given a life expectancy of six months. Without it, maybe two. She decided that taking potions wasn't worth the trouble. Though she had been a healer through two wars and took care of an Order, worked in a hospital and taught at Hogwarts, she would fade away to nothingness – it would be like she never existed. And, those who she had lived to protect wouldn't even care.

HP***HP

The next morning Arthur surprised the group by staying home. What he didn't admit was that he had a pounding headache that made the world seem to throb. Ginny was wise to him – she kept trying to give him tea and get him to rest, but Arthur had something more important to do.

He waited until Hermione and Ron went to work and ascended the stairs slowly. There were two men who didn't know what they had thrown away. And, he was going to make sure they tried to get it back.

Remus was asleep when Arthur entered the room. He felt his heart swell with worry at the too pale complexion. Hermione had left for work after he swore that Remus would get all the help he needed. He only hoped that he would be able to keep that promise. Hermione may have been his son's age, but she was a force to be reckoned with.

"It was none of your business, you know," he told Remus, not caring if he actually woke up for the conversation or not.

"I know," Remus groaned.

Arthur took a deep breath and sat down on the bed. "You look a fright, my friend."

Remus coughed harshly. "Feel it."

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and shoot his head. He sighed heavily. "Remus, why didn't you leave well enough alone?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you confront Severus about Zia's glimmers? Whether he consciously knew about the glimmers or not is not your concern."

"I wanted to be sure she was being taken care of."

"That's our job Remus – to pick up where Severus doesn't notice. Why would that have changed?"

Remus closed his eyes. "I don't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Arthur summoned a bowl of water and cloth. He placed the wet cloth on Remus' forehead. "Rest, my friend. I don't agree with what you did, but now someone's got to fix it."

As Arthur went to leave the room Remus called out, "I do still love her."

Arthur paused and considered his words carefully, "Just hope that if I can get her back you can convince her of that … not me."

He moved on to Severus' room. He feared entering it. Severus was known for waking up violently. The only person he would wake up gently for was Zia.

He paused outside the door. He remembered fights that he and Molly had – and how she would yell and tell him to go somewhere else. He wondered if that's what Severus had wanted – some space to breath and think. Hermione swore that Severus didn't ask Zia to leave, but he said that he didn't trust her because of the lies.

"Just come in Arthur. I know you're there," Severus called through the door.

When Arthur walked in he was shocked. Severus' nearly impeccable room was torn to shreds. And, Severus sat on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees with his head bowed. "I chased her off. She'll never forgive me for this."

Arthur looked at the scattered pictures and picked up half of the torn picture. Zia's figure was still trying desperately to get to Severus. "Sev, all couples fight. She still loves you."

"How could she? After what I did?"

Arthur squatted in front of Severus. "What did you do?"

"I made her feel weak and afraid. I was so blinded by her beauty that I didn't care what state she was really in. Then, when confronted, I force her to show me… not ask … _force_, and then I cast her aside for betrayal. But, it is not she who did the betraying. I betrayed her every step of the way, and I didn't even know."

Arthur rubbed his forehead. He had expected to have to remind Severus that she was the same woman he loved for all those years, but she looked different. He did not expect to have to console him. "She loves you Severus. I know she does."

"How? How could a lady like that love me?"

It was a question that had been bantered about for years. But, this was not the time for jokes. "It doesn't matter how or why, only that she does. And, you must go to her Sev. Let her know that you love her still. I think you'll find that she's very forgiving."

"I know she's very forgiving."

"She'll want yours you know," Arthur added, as an afterthought.

"My what?"

"Your forgiveness. If she feels she's wronged you, she is going to want your forgiveness… and you may have to convince her of your love."

HP***HP

Zia heaved painful and uncontrollably. She was certain the end was near, but nothing was happening. She begged every deity that she could think of to just let her die. But, innard-wrenching pain seemed to be the way to go – for the third hour in a row.

She seriously considered slicing her own throat or cursing herself, but she couldn't imagine what pain that would leave Severus in. At least once he found out how weak she was, he could leave knowing why. It would be okay then. It wouldn't matter anyway.

She heard someone apparate into her bedroom. "No," she breathed, "not now."

She heard footsteps getting closer to the room. "Are you all right, my love?" Severus asked her. His voice was kind and warm. She thought she must have been dreaming – and she was okay with that.

She shook her head. "Don't look at me. I'm weak," 'and dying,' she thought. "You don't like weak things. Please just leave me." She shrunk to the floor, as if reducing her physical size would make her harder to see.

"Hush, you're mine, and I'm taking you home," Severus said, bending down and scooping her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, letting tears flow down her cheeks. "I'm sorry for aging, for being weak. And, I'm so sorry for not dying."

He paused mid-step. "What?"

"If I had died, you would be free. I'm sorry for you… for being too selfish to just let you go."

Severus felt both his heart and his stomach constrict. "It is I who am sorry. You have always given me a safe place to be. But, I … I made you feel insecure. I didn't mean to. I love you."

"I'm too old – too frail," she countered, still crying.

"No. You're beautiful – even without the glimmers. You are beautiful."

"You are lying," she said, a teasing tone dancing on the edge of her words.

He said nothing more until they reached home. After he laid her down on to the bed, he knelt down next to it, and rested his head on the mattress. "I'm so sorry, Zia. Please… please forgive me."

"My love. There's nothing to forgive. I knew you wouldn't love me anymore if you saw what I am. That's why I hid it."

Tears started to trickle down his face. This sort of damage had to be done over time. The _knowledge_ that she had that his love was conditional on her strength and her youth was heart wrenching.

"Why do you cry my love," she asked. He felt a hand in his hair and looked up. "I think no less of you. And, I love you still. I just wish I was still worth yours."

He took her hand and kissed it. "You are. Every day of my life, you are. And, I will work to make you know that. To make you see that even though you have aged, you are still mine."

"Don't feel obligated if you don't wish it."

"You are not my obligation. You are my wife. And, I love you." He came up onto the bed and pulled her close. But, right now… tell me what's ailing you."

"I'm not ill," she retorted.

"You are. I know you are. And, I want to take care of you. Please don't push me away."

She paused. She wished he had not caught her. She wished she had handled things differently from the beginning. "I'm tired Sev. Nap with me?"

Having not gotten much sleep the night before, he welcomed the thought. He rolled over onto his side and held her close.

"Sev?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"If I died tomorrow, would you miss me?"

"Extremely," he answered seriously.

She rolled over to face him. "Really?"

"Of course. And, I'm so sorry that you don't just _know_ that."

She kissed him on the nose. "I do know that. Thank you." She rolled back onto her other side.

"Sev?"

"Go to sleep."

"I love you," she whispered. She didn't expect him to say it back. In all their years together he had only said it about 100 times.

He held her tighter. "I love you more."


	55. The Illness

Severus wai ted until Zia fell asleep then descended the stairs slowly. He felt drained – his energy totally zapped. He walked quietly into the kitchen and sat at the table. He placed his head in his hands and felt tears start to well up in his eyes. What he wouldn't give for Zia to be holding him right now.

But, it wasn't all about him, was it? Maybe that's where he had failed her. He had taken advantage of her healer tendencies and forgotten that she needed more than just to know she was loved and financially secure. She needed to feel secure and accepted. Two things that he had woefully denied her for far too long.

He felt a hand on his shoulder for a moment. When he didn't respond the hand left his shoulder and he heard someone bustling around the kitchen. Within minutes he heard the unmistakable sound of a mug being placed on the table.

"Drink some tea," Arthur said, warmly. "It'll calm your nerves."

Severus looked up at him, not caring if Arthur saw the tears in his eyes. He performed a wandless spell on the door and closed them inside.

"She's sick, Arthur," he said sadly.

"Happens to the best of us," Arthur replied calmly. "Even healers."

"Not my Zia. I don't remember her ever being sick."

Arthur smiled. "Even she's not that strong," he said taking a seat beside Severus. "She hides it well."

Severus blinked and tears dropped from his eyes. "She didn't want me to bring her home. She said she's too weak. She thinks my love is conditional. She thinks I don't love her anymore." Unable to control the pain, he put a hand over his eyes and wept.

"That's a heavy burden for her to bear," Arthur said, "to think that love is conditional."

"I know it. She's the first person who loved me unconditionally. And I returned it by making her feel afraid to be weak. Do you know what she said?" Without waiting for Arthur's response he continued on. "She apologized to me for not dying. And, for being too selfish to just let me go. Where could she think I'd want to go? Wherever she is, I am happy."

Arthur sniffed with emotion. He missed Molly and wished she was here. She was always so much better at these kinds of talks than he. "She needs to feel that. To _know_ that."

"I don't show happiness well."

"True. But, even if you could not attack her on a daily basis…"

"I don't remember doing that."

"I know. But you do it all the same. And, now, for whatever reason she feels that she is too weak to handle the attacks." He thought carefully about his next comment. "Severus, when was the last time you told Zia you love her?"

"Just before I came down here."

"And before that?"

Severus shook his head. He couldn't remember.

"No matter. When was the last time you told her that you cherish her?"

Severus shook his head. He couldn't remember.

"Okay. What about the last time you called her beautiful?"

Severus' face lit up. "About two months ago we went to a gala in the City. Oh, she looked beautiful – all done up like nobility."

"And you told her then?"

"Several times."

"Do you ever tell her just because she's there and you're so struck by love?"

"No," Severus stated plainly. "But I do take those moments to kiss her."

Arthur smiled. "At least that's something."

Severus thought for a moment. "You know Arthur, for all these years I've treated her like a lady, but never like a woman."

"Perhaps it's time to start."

HP ** HP

The next time Zia opened her eyes it was after the sound of a very desperate sounding sneeze. She pried her eyes open and immediately wished she was asleep again. But, no. Someone was sick, which meant she was on duty.

"Sorry," Remus said, before she could say anything.

She winced at the roughness in his voice. "No, don't be. You're sick. I'm just sorry I didn't notice you earlier. I'm really losing my touch, huh?"

He shook his head. "Not what I was sorry for."

She sighed. Of course… he had Hermione now. He didn't need her to notice he was sick. "Then what do you want, Remus?"

"I want to say my apologies."

"Don't bother," she replied without malice. "Now I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I have lost the man I love. I know that I am too old and weak and ugly for him to love. And, I understand that. I do wish you could have waited to ask him about the glimmers though. Just a few more months."

"Why?" Remus said, his breath hitching in an on coming sneeze.

"Because …" she paused. She felt like she should tell _somebody_ the truth. But, with any luck, she would be able to push Severus past his breaking point and he could start healing before the end. Then everyone would return home and she could slip away in peace. "He'll be past the worst of it by then. It was just more stress he doesn't need."

"And what about your stress?" he asked after a particularly wet sneeze.

Her look softened as she observed him: his too pale skin in contrast with his red rimmed eyes and pinked nose; the way his hands shook; the harshness in his voice… "Remus, what can I do to lessen your suffering? Perhaps a some potionless healing to help you get some sleep?"

"Answer my question first," he demanded stuffily.

"My life is stress. It's my job. I can handle it."

It was obvious that he did not like the answer, but was too tired to argue. "Fine," he relinquished. "A healing trance would be nice."

A bolt of pain ceased her and she cried out. "First, do something for me."

He smiled. "Anything."

"Apparate to my house. There's a bag full of vials of purple potions. I need them."

Remus gave her a skeptical look.

"Remus, I'm desperate," she begged. "I know you don't love me as you loved Jada, but she is still somewhere inside me. Please… I know I didn't live the pure life that Jada deserved, and that I robbed you of something beautiful. But, think… if we had married, I would have robbed you of Sirius – and Hermione."

Remus gasped as a realization he wasn't ready to face dawned on him. "You think I'm angry at you?"

"Why else would you have meddled?" she asked, nearly in tears. "I know, I'm not _your_ Jada anymore. But, I thought I was still your friend."

"I wanted to make sure you were properly cared for."

"Remus, that's not your job. And, it's not your responsibility. And, it's not in my cards to have that sort of care. I provide it. Not receive it." She could tell that he wanted to argue the point, but she didn't let him. "Please go… please." Tears poured down her cheeks.

He nodded and after a particularly rough sneeze apparated away.

Sobs of pain overwhelmed Zia as she blacked out.

She awoke to a gentle hand raising her head and pouring liquid down her throat. She sputtered a bit, but swallowed it down. The familiar tingling returned and she opened her eyes.

Remus' eyes were filled with worry. But, there was no doubt about the furrow of his brow. He was pissed off.

"What the hell, Z? Potions no one know about? Painful symptoms and glimmers that not even Severus knows about? _Potions_ that not even Severus knows about?" He paused to sneeze into his elbow and continued. "Something is going on with you and you can't hide it forever."

"Ginny knows about the potions," she admitted.

He paused. "And Arthur knows about whatever the illness is?"

Years of lying to others had not deadened her to Remus, and she found that even after all these years she could not lie to him. She shook her head slowly.

"Severus?"

"No," she admitted. "I don't want him to know. I don't want anyone to know."

"Well we're going to find out eventually. Don't you think it's better coming from you?"

"No. It's not your job."

"Severus then?" He nearly spat the word 'Severus' out.

"No… not his either."

"Then who's is it?" he yelled, and then coughed from the effort. "Whose job is it to care about you?"

"Whose job has it ever been? No one's," she whispered. "Now come on. You got me my potion, let me help you get to sleep. You're tired."

Suddenly, Remus felt extremely exhausted. He nodded at lead her to his bedroom, where she thoroughly enjoyed putting him to sleep.

HP *** HP

Zia sat in the living room reading. She felt naked and ugly without the glimmers, so she raised them again. Severus had gone to take another nap without speaking to her. She knew that she had hurt him, but there were more important things to deal with, like the impending moon, Remus' illness, and the fact that she was certain that Arthur was coming down with whatever Remus had. She was also concerned about Hermione's well-being. It was no secret that she was not happy at the Ministry. Remus had told her about his friend, the book-seller, and she couldn't imagine a better fit for Hermione.

She sighed as she heard an owl hooting at the window. She let it in and noticed a letter which looked to be from the Ministry. Immediately, she felt on edge – how did they find out Hermione was living there? Would she get in trouble for it? She felt nauseous and extremely protective.

Quickly, she yanked the message off the owls leg, and sent it on its way. But, it wasn't for Hermione after all. It was a message from St. Mungos reminding her about her appointment the following day. She sighed. She had made her decision: six months max. Now she had to tell her healer and set up her friends so that she would not be missed.

HP***HP

"ZIA!" Severus bellowed.

She jolted awake, and realized that she fell asleep while reading. Remus was also in the living room, with a blanket over his lap. "Rem?" she asked, full of sleepy confusion. He pried his eyes open and she realized that he didn't have any idea what was going on either.

She stood to meet her fate. Whatever he wanted to dish out, she deserved – whether he was stuck in a flashback or really angry with her. One way or the other, she vowed to handle it like the woman he loved. At least he would have memories of a strong healer, not a weak invalid.

He fumed as he came at her, reminding her of the monster he used to be when he dueled. Her eyes flicked to his hands – no wand. This put her at an advantage. She could weaken him by using the wandless magic she knew as a healer. She prepared herself for battle.

"What do you want, Severus?" she nearly yelled.

Remus, who had fallen back to sleep, jerked awake.

"Get in here, you bitch!" Severus yelled, coming into the living room and forcibly pulling her into the dining room. "What is _wrong_ with you? Didn't you see Remus sleeping? Why don't you give a damn about him anymore? What's your problem?"

"I was asleep," she answered, more innocently than she planned to.

A sharp back hand across her face sparked the inner fire she once felt. Pressing both of her hands to his throat, she pushed him back a few steps. "You will _not_ slap me you bastard!" she yelled back.

He got out of her hold easily and shoved her against the wall. "You know what I hate about you?" he sneered.

"Severus, let her go!" Hermione called. Remus was at her side, wand drawn. The fire in Hermione's eyes was commendable, but Zia was not interested in being saved.

"What do you hate about me?" she asked.

"I hate… no I _loathe_ that you love me. I hate it with ever fiber of my being that someone as gifted as you wasted your life with someone as bitter and hateful as me. If I could go back and change one thing, it would be that I allowed you to fall in love with me. I hate that you let me waste your life like this."

With every ounce of hurt that she felt, she decked him in the stomach.

When he hunched over in pain, she looked at him and hissed, "Don't worry, you won't have to hate me for much longer." She ran upstairs in tears.

"Hate you?" he asked, his voice harsh from his stomach pain and confused.

"Don't tell me you don't remember that either," Hermione asked accusingly.

"What? Telling her I… oh my… hate… her… I remember. I don't remember why, though. I mean, I don't hate her. I love her… I always have."

Dizzy with fever, Remus lead Severus out of the room and settled back into the armchair. "What else do you remember?"

Shaking his head as if waking from a dream, Severus answered slowly. "I hit her… oh my… I _hit_ her… once, twice… many times. I remember thinking Ginny was Lily and I remember telling Zia I didn't love her and that…" His voice trailed off with realization. "I need to talk to Zia," he said, and left the room.

"And I need to talk to you," Hermione said, placing a cool hand on Remus' feverish forehead.

"Hm?" he asked, sleepily.

"Rem, do you want to go home?"

Remus shook his head.

She knelt down next to him and placed her hands on his lap. "Sweetheart, I know you're sick. _Very_ sick. If you would rather I take care of you at home, please let me know."

Even through the fog of illness and fatigue, he could derive an underlying premise. "Do you want to go back to the cottage?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Not really. But, I do want a safe place for you to rest before the moon."

He smiled softly. "I am safe. And I feel most comfortable in a village setting. I've missed it." He sneezed wetly and sniffed miserably.

"Then I will have to care for you here the way I would have at home," she said, rising to her feet.

"I expected nothing less."

"I expected more of Zia," Hermione stated honestly. "From your stories and what I saw of her in Hogwarts, and then heard about after – I just assumed that she would be all over the idea of helping you and maybe even teaching me some more."

Two extremely harsh sneezes exploded out of Remus, bending him forward. He waited for the dazed feeling to fade away before responding. "She doesn't want to overstep her boundaries or make you feel uncomfortable. I get the distinct impression that she feels that because I have you, her place in my life is obsolete. And…" he hesitated for a moment, "she's sick."

"That's ridiculous, that our sudden arrangement could ever change the bond and friendship and knowledge that you two share."

"I agree. But, I think it's the illness."

"What illness?"

"I don't know. But, I know she's taking potions that Severus doesn't know about. And, I know she's in a great deal of pain."

"Well we all know about the pain," Hermione said, helping Remus to his feet.

He nodded. We just don't know to what end.

HP *** HP

Severus opened the door quietly. "Z?" he asked, tentatively. He had no idea what he was going to say, or how he was going to make amends for this. As he had gone up the stairs more memories returned to him of abuses that she had taken. He could distinctly remember her wearing down, and mentally berated himself for not noticing as it was happening.

"Yes, my love, what is it?" Her voice was kind and gentle – as if nothing had transpired in the past few months. But, the situations had occurred, and it was up to him to make it up to her before it was too late.

"I'm sorry," he stated. The words sounded hollow and weak.

"Nothing to be sorry for. You've been going through a rough time. I'm just happy you're remembering… maybe this… hatred…" Her voice broke, and she bit back a sob. After a moment she continued. "Maybe this hatred of me is the basis of your anger. Hopefully, this … this… truth is what we've been waiting for." She pressed her hands over her face and struggled to contain her sobs.

"No… no… it's not." He went to put his hand on the back of her shoulder, but she whirled around on him.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled. She backed away. "Just don't touch me," she repeated, unable to contain the sobs. She slid down to the floor and let the sobs overwhelm her.

Severus looked at the woman he loved sobbing on the floor in front of him. He had done this. He had broken her.

He sat down in front of her and prepared to wait her out. Eventually, she would be ready to talk. And, when she was ready, he would be there.

He thought back to the horrible things he had done in his life. He had sided with the worst wizard known in several centuries, he had killed his mentor and friend – Dumbledore, he had spied on people, taken out whole families, and countless other atrocities. But, nothing broke his heart as much as seeing his wife – the woman that he vowed to love and protect, sitting in front of him sobbing because he had just admitted that he hated her.

"I don't hate you, Zia," he said, just loud enough to be heard over her sobs.

"You do. You admitted in an altered state… so you do." She sniffed wetly. "And, it's okay. Because I'll be dead soon – and then you won't have me holding you back. I'm just sorry I wasted so many years of your life. I'm sorry that I'm your regret."

He felt his heart and stomach constrict again. "No, Zia. I don't regret loving you."

"No…" she breathed, the tears continuing to fall.

"What I regret is not being good to you. I regret making you cry and suffer for my happiness. I regret being a selfish bastard and not caring for you they way you do for me. And, most of all, I regret not telling you every day how much I love and cherish you."

"You must be dying," she said. "Or perhaps you're catching Remus' flu. You always did get maudlin when you caught a fever."

He squinted at her. "You don't believe me," he realized.

"I know … well knew…" She sighed and tried again. "I always thought you loved me. You showed me by taking care of me financially and making me feel special. I'm a healer – it's not your job to care for me the way I care for you."

"Healer has nothing to do with it. I wish I had shown you more love, because I love you. And because you deserve it. Besides…" he paused and his eyes grew stormy as he looked at her. "Did you say that you'll be dead soon? What did you take?" He jumped to his feet. "Damn it Zia, I have to brew and antidote."

She smiled. "Sit down. We can talk if you'd like. But, there's nothing to be done for it. I'm dying."

"I can take you to a healer," he snapped.

"I've been," she answered calmly. She got up and picked up one of the vials of potion and handed it to them. I've been taking that for about a month."

He looked at her. Hurt radiated from his eyes. "You were taking potions and I didn't brew them?"

She smiled. "You were in no condition to take care of me, let alone brew potions for me."

He lowered his eyes as he digested that. "What is it?"

"Some internal bleeding healer, I think."

He shook his head. "Not the potion. What's ailing you?" The concern could not be missed.

She smiled sweetly. "I know you don't think that being a healer has anything to do with anything. However, as you know, healers age quicker."

"Your glimmers are back up," he interrupted.

She sighed and nodded. "I feel naked without them."

He nodded. "Continue."

"My organs are failing. Slowly and painfully. The potion slows the process."

"And here I have been hateful, spiteful, and abusive."

"Well," she said twisting her wedding ring. "If you loathe me, and hate me, then I suppose that would make sense."

"I don't hate you," he said as tears returned to his eyes. "I hate that I feel like you wasted your life with me."

"I never felt like I did. But, I did know that I was starting to outlive my usefulness – I believe those were your exact words – and those were said over five years ago. I just thought that you would have traded me in for a newer healer years ago."

"No… I don't remember saying that. And, I don't want anyone else. I want you – I love you."

"You don't have to. If you don't want to have me – or hold me – anymore, just say the word and I'll go home. You'll never see me again, and the next time you hear about me I'll be dead."

"Don't make me bind you here," he stated, with a touch of humor.

"I don't want to leave," she admitted. "I just don't want you to hate me."

He moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. "I don't hate you. You are the most beautiful light of my life. You have brought me joy and happiness, and I swear I will be there until your last breath."

She smiled. "I'd like that."

HP***HP

Arthur, Remus, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, Severus and Zia sat around the dinner table. Ginny had cooked dinner, but Severus said that there was something that needed to be discussed in a village meeting.

The group looked at him in anticipation. "Everyone, thank you for humoring me. As some of you know, I made a major breakthrough tonight, and Zia and I have hashed out what we think is the basis of the breakdowns, flash backs, and the rage that you've all seen me direct at her. So, if you want to, you can all go home, and we'll work with the rest. However, there is one more thing that I think Zia should tell you."

"I know you're all probably anxious to go home, and I can't blame you. This is not being said as an attempt to guilt you to make you stay. However, Severus feels that it's important for me to tell you all what's been going on with me. Um, Remus, Ginny, you both know that I have been unwell. The fact of the matter is that I'm dying. My organs are failing, and I'm not expected to live beyond the next six months."

Gasps could be heard all around the table.

"I don't want you to all stay because you feel obligated to. Do know that if you decide to leave, Severus will take good care of me."

"I'm not going anywhere Z," Remus said, without thinking.

Zia looked at Hermione for confirmation.

Taking the hink, Hermione responded, "And, I wouldn't want him to."

"We'll be staying," Arthur said.

"Then it's official that we'll become a semi-permanent village?" Severus asked.

"I'm willing to venture to say a permanent one," Arthur answered.

Hermione and Remus nodded.

"Lovely," Zia said. "Thank you." She turned to face Severus. "Which brings me to my next question. Severus, I have an appointment at St. Mungos tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?"

Without hesitation he responded, "Of course."

A/N: Okay folks, that will be the end of this Part. A new story called "The Village" will be started soon. Don't worry, there will be more Hermione / Remus, and Hermione /Zia and Zia/Arthur and lots of other non-slashy interactions. I look forward to seeing you there!


End file.
